Sleepless Nights' Vertigo
by Madame de C
Summary: Nov. 2006: under rewriting, will be available soon! A year before the great war, two Jedi must put their mutual dislike aside to track an ancient Holocron in the depths of Coruscant's Lower City where the Mob reigns and the notion of right and wrong fades
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I don't own,please, don't sue.

Feel free to tell me what you think of this criticism is most welcome.

* * *

The lamp hanging from the ceiling sways in the wind and its dim light goes back and forth, once, twice, over and over on the bare concrete walls of the room.

A tall, white-haired man is talking to a woman who sits in the centre of the rocking circle of light. She seems to react to the man's words and formulate the appropriate answers but the focused look on her face is in fact turned toward a deeper and perhaps more disruptive thought.

She watches the odd shadows on the ceiling as the deep voice rumbles somewhere near her. She knows that the end is near. The future suddenly appears like a vast chess game where the first move would be hers…

The man speaking to her is one of the keys to the enigma. His words retrace the course of actions that led to the present moment.

They are the truth.

Her thoughts are blown to smithereens, scattered like broken glass yet all strangely interlocked.

The woman's mouth suddenly curls tremulously into a smile as she half dreams, half recalls a wide alley bordered with endless rows of glowing holobooks and then a man waking up from a nightmare. He looks so confident and poised but doubt is gnawing at him. There is also the shadow of the runic crescent branding her flesh, the one that makes her the third element of the prediction that will doom people of her kind.

Many had already fallen and started to become shadows and no doubt, the mechanism of the Prophecy would crush many more.

But to make sense of those disjoined memories and thoughts one would have to look back in time.

How had it all begun already? The young woman wonders.

Oh, yes… that night, that strange, burlesque night… Force, it seemed ages ago…


	2. Oracle

The high vaults cradling the deserted Jedi Archives were now bathed in a shallow obscurity. A lone hooded figure paused in the main aisle to gaze at the busts of the most honoured masters of the Force as they caught the bluish glow of endless rows of holobooks. The lamps placed on the reading lounge's tables were shedding meager puddles of light on the paved floor.

Knight Nila Sohal, assistant warden of the Temple's lore, drew her burden of holobooks closer to her chest and resumed her quiet walk toward the sorting terminal. It was way past midnight and she realized with a sigh of relief that she was probably the last person awake in the sanctuary.

She was fond of those late hours when the world outside was lost to the night, when the Archives were hers for a few secret hours. Yet that night, the stillness around seemed to waver between its usual calmness and a slightly more disturbing feeling. As if something was going to happen. She smirked dryly at the thought, slipping the first holobook in the sorting terminal.

Nine years had past since the dire events on Naboo when the Jedi had discovered the apparent rekindling of the Sith Order and lost one of their most recognizedif undisciplinedMasters in the process. The entire Order had been deeply shaken, but routine had not been long to settle back.

Listening to the soft hum of the unit as it classified the data, Nila looked over the stout millenarian pillars framing the main alley. For some reason, she found their cold immutability reassuring. A smile graced her too serious features as she thought there had been a time when she would have never even imagined living in such a place, safe from the bustle of the sleepless megalopolis.

After a while, Nila pulled the folds of her heavy uniform cloak more tightly around her and slid her cold fingertips in its ample sleeves. The massive arches were glacial after sunset and her breath was now coming out in faint puffs of mist as it met the freezing air. Shivering, she returned to the reading lounge where lay the last stack of holobooks, vaguely registering the muffled hum of a computer in the study area as she passed by.

Her hasty strides suddenly faltered as she remembered that the Archives had been closed for over two hours.

The young woman frowned in annoyance at this intrusion into her moment of solitude. Stepping into the main alley, she spotted the bluish glare of a screen at the far end of the research area, but the chair in front of it was empty. She glanced around her.

No one.

Nila automatically probed her surroundings to detect a Force signature without results. If someone was here, he or she had to be tightly shielded but Nila crossed out that possibility almost at once – nobody would do this within the Temple unless there was some immediate threat and such thing had never happened in millennia.

What a notion…

Nila Sohal shrugged and walked up to the unit to disconnect the system and retrieve the holo still inside. As she touched the keyboard, the screensaver disappeared to reveal the irregular lines of an ancient manuscript. Probably Valayn by the look of it, the language of scholars in times of old used for literature or scientific treatises. A large portion of the text was missing at the bottom, possibly torn away or destroyed.

It was really getting late and the young woman reckoned she hardly had any spare time to pore over somebody else's work. Before ending the connection, she noted that the small characters had been scribbled by a hurried hand as though in distress or deep anxiety. Nila pocketed the disk to have it sorted by the terminal and returned to her task.

She was lifting her pile of holobooks when a furtive sensation stopped her. Just a subtle change of atmosphere, the air felt suddenly tighter—a mere flutter around her and it was gone.

A presence. Someone else was in here.

Nila set her burden on the desk and quickly put a hand on the metal chair. Still faintly warm—someone had sat there but a few minutes before. She instinctively went defensive and shielded her mind to inspect the area carefully. The size of Archives hall, the largest chamber of the Temple, was working against her. Yet, she guessed a relentless attention focused on her somewhere in the obscurity that made her keenly aware of the absence of her light sabre against her hip. Her status made it merely decorative and she had not worn it since her knighthood ceremony three years ago.

Her fists clenched and relaxed at her sides and she absently sensed a slight moisture gather in her palms.

Nothing moved, not a sound, everything was perfectly quiet save her now quickened breathing. Nila raised her eyes to the two balconies of the upper level running on each side of the room. The shadow of the cornice fringing the high openings seemed to curl menacingly in the cold and dim light as it cast strange silhouettes on the ground.

Suddenly, a faint noise somewhere amidst the shelves had her rushing into the small side alleys, drawing her away from the lights of the main aisle. She was isolated and unarmed. The hushed sound of her cloak brushing the tiles on the ground echoed quietly. Could _they_ have finally managed to track her down here after those four years? A few grim names and faces sprung to life in her head…

It was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. _Nobody_ could break into this fortress.

Out of a habit, she started to chant the Code under her breath:

'_There is no emotion; there is peace. _

_There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. _

_There is no passion; there is serenity. _

_There is no death; there is…_

"FORCE!"

Her startled shout bounced off the wall inhumanely as a form swiftly dodged to the right. Nila barely had time make out a shape, assuming by the size it was a man or at least a male and he was quick! She feinted left to corner him but he boldly charged her, making her lose her balance and fall backward.

Nila cursed furiously and ran after him.

She started as she suddenly felt the odd flutter again, this time following her close as though miming her every move like a shadow in the sun…A quick look over her shoulder only revealed the empty aisle. Just as she decided she had imagined the sensation, something brushed past her shoulder and the sound of the hasty footfalls in front of her seemed to have divided in two…

_Two _different persons were running away from her.

But the noise a minute ago had been unmistakable! Yet, after a few seconds, her startled mind brushed through the Force something unknown… cold and slick… like seaweed…

Her concentration snapped. Ahead, the footfalls, which were those of a single person, accelerated and faded as though swallowed by the darkness.

She found herself standing like an idiot in the middle of an aisle, catching her breath, a bit disoriented.

The entrance door was wide open…they if there had ever been two of them had escaped. Nila Sohal shook her head in disbelief. Nobody could pick an electronic lock that fast she had quite an extensive knowledge on the matter. A few chosen expressions crossed her mind to send those wretched sons of a…

How odd though, her mind replayed what had just happened as she took cautious steps toward the door. The rules of the Archives were strict: none other than the Jedi was allowed to browse the documents inside the Archives. The civilians were only allowed in the morning, twice a week, in a separated reading lounge where they were brought the holovids they needed. And let's face it, how likely was it that somebody had broken unnoticed into a place full of Force sensitive people? Unlikely, yet not impossible if someone was coming from inside the Temple… she stopped none of it made sense.

The knight irritably rearranged her hood and spotted a bag beneath the desk of the computer she had switched off. It was a basic pouch made of tough canvas. Nila cautiously lifted the flap…

Nothing blew up in her face. So far so good. She sneaked a glimpse inside.

Suddenly, the flap snapped closed and the bag executed a backward movement. The young woman just had time to feel her eyes widen in surprise before she was shoved away by an invisible strength. She crashed violently against a shelf, the side of her face hitting a corner and slid to the floor with a breathless groan. Blocking the pain radiating in her back and cheekbone, she scrambled to her feet. Her opponent was still undetectable.

The knight was securing her hood over her face when she felt it coming. She anticipated the movement of an arm snatching from behind to seize her, grabbing it. Nila felt oddly reassured when her fingers closed on warm skin contrasting sharply with the strange…thing she had detected before. She gave a solid pull forward and threw the shadow on the floor. In a flash, her opponent was on his feet and flipping nimbly over her head.

Before he could make contact with the ground, she caught him behind his knees with her leg and swept his feet from beneath him. Taken off-guard, he waltzed across a desk, knocking off both the screen and the lamp in the process and fell out of view. A smug smile tugging at her lips, Nila leaned over the desk.

Possibly not a wise move…

Two hands shot out from the semi-obscurity and grasped her roughly by the edges of her robes. The young woman was pulled forward and thrown again to the floor. She blocked the fist aimed at her solar plexus and twisted it sharply, causing her adversary to lose his balance.

If sparring had always been Nila Sohal's element, this time she had miscalculated the distance between her and the desk's legs and found it impossible to dodge him when he fell flat on her. The bridge of her nose crashed against his shoulder. Her vision blurred as her breath was crushed out of her. The man froze for a second above her, allowing her to smash her elbow hard in his ribs which sent him rolling off her with a growl of pain.

Then, Nila groped in her utility belt for her small knife and stabbed swiftly albeit weakly. The blade tore the cloak and plunged into the skin beneath but as soon as it did, a burning sensation of pain saturated her senses. Both hissed sharply some sort of temporary connection had been established between them. Every blow she would land would be returned via the link… Above her, the man wasted no time to take advantage of her hesitation as he violently pushed his left forearm against her throat.

The knife fell on the ground as spots of dazzling light started to cloud her vision. Panic rose as she realized that she could not relieve the pressure on her neck. She thrashed around, arching her back desperately but his hold on her did not loosen and her strength started to slip away. Slowly her surroundings faded behind a thick black veil and she heard the sound of bell ringing more and more stridently in her head. As she lost her grip on reality, she remembered the fallen Master of Naboo confronting a Sith Lord. Her aggressor was obviously trained to use the Force, could that mean…

In a last effort, she managed to free her arm and sent a backhanded blow across the hood. The very characteristic snap of a light sabre inches from her face was the instant answer. She felt the scorching halo of the blade graze her cheek, shedding a menacing light on her face. Her limbs felt like lead, strangely passive, she awaited the blow.

A muffled exclamation escaped the hooded face and in a heartbeat, the sabre was deactivated, the dense mass was gone from her body and throat. Her eyes opened wide as tears started to trickle down in reaction to the choking. She drew a ragged breath that was immediately broken by a coughing fit. Then she was pulled to her feet.

"I'm so sorry… Are you well enough to stand on your own?" an unfamiliar voice with a melodic lilt inquired worriedly. Nila could not answer but her legs trembled badly and she would have collapsed if it had not been for his grip. "I don't understand what happened… I'm sure I felt something…"

Unknown hands brushed against her damp cheeks, wiping away the tears and the blood oozing from her nose. They felt a bit rough and awkward yet they were careful and warm. Nila let the strong fingers frame her face for a moment, let them calm her…Breathing in and out, slowly.

"It's not broken," he said, referring to her nose.

The slight daze cleared and Nila wrenched away from the man.

"Wait!" she hissed, forgetting herself. "What the hell was this for, you twisted bastard—"

Nila, though well on her way to shout herself hoarse, stopped dead as they reached the lighted area. The rude words echoed oddly in the solemn chamber. Her mouth closed with faint click when the light fell on his face. He was not the Enemy. No. But it was not exactly good news either. She mentally groaned as she realized that she had attacked a fellow Jedi.

A master to be precise.

And a rather famous one.

Oh, yes, had she not just insulted him too?

_Mortified_ was not the word…

Apparently unconcerned by the breach of etiquette, the master's eyes were strained to study the woman standing in front of him in the dim light. Average size with dark hair and eyes to match and above all, a low, husky voice that did not seem to belong to her. It was not exactly unpleasant but he almost frowned at the impression of discordance it created.

The silence started to stretch uncomfortably as both realized they had no real idea of the proper thing to do and say.

Nila started to rub absently the dull remnant of pain in her neck, a move which in fact increased the Master's uneasiness.

"I'm genuinely sorry about that… incident," he started, brushing a hand in his tousled blond hair. "I was just doing the routine research after completing a mission. In such moments I seldom realize how late it is and I"

"Make a habit of molesting people in the dark?" Nila croaked wryly. "A personal technique to get rid of the stress, I suppose."

"Well. You were shielded too and fought back," he pointed out.

"What was I supposed to do? You attacked me."

"You stabbed me!"

"You choked me," Nila answered, matter-of-fact.

He had the decency to look embarrassed she had the decency to smile a little. "It evens the score, doesn't it?"

They smirked at each other then simultaneously winced and clamped a hand on the bruise they had inflicted on each other's cheekbone.

"Well. Another bright day for the Keepers of the Peace…" Nila remarked with a pained grimace.

He laughed at this and noticed she was talking quickly, darting her eyes toward him and smiling a bit hesitantly like someone who had not done it in a long time. As for Nila, she was a bit startled to hear his unrestrained, fully relaxed chuckle. A good, rich sound which made her lose some of her reserve.

"I have to apologize too for beating you to a pulp," she said sincerely.

"To a _pulp_?" A derisive smile formed on the master's face. "But it was quite a fight, I admit. I particularly liked the hidden knife part… very dramatic." He smirked again as he reached a hand inside his blood stained tunic to press the slash. Nila noticed his pallor and hurriedly fished in her pocket to hand him a handkerchief with a self-conscious glance.

"What was a young librarian doing up stabbing people this late after curfew?" he asked casually, accepting the piece of fabric.

"I'm Madame Nu's assistant," she corrected, not overly surprised that he did not seem to recall her although she had served every day in the Archives for a few years now. They had also attended a few classes together as Padawans but since he was a few years older and trained in the diplomatic corps while she had joined the Unit, they had parted ways early. And, well…since she had been knighted, she had tried to blend in the scenery as much as possible.

"Should I take you to the healers, Master?" she said, gesturing toward his wounded shoulder.

"No need. It's superficial. Do I know you?" he asked, having noted the use of his title. "Perhaps, a proper introduction is in order."

"I'm Obi-wan Kenobi, lurking threat and Jedi master," he declared straight-faced, extending his free hand.

Nila stared at his proffered hand, hesitated. _'Ah, blast it. He will find out anyway,'_ she mused.

"Nila Sohal, obscure Jedi knight with mild psychotic tendencies."

She watched his face closely, bracing herself for a potential spark of recognition. None came and his eyes were sparkling with humour. Relieved, Nila grasped his hand and they were exchanging an earnest handshake when the Force around them suddenly buzzed quietly.

The two Jedi froze and exchanged a look. Someone had stepped into the hall and was coming their way.

"What is going on here?"

They whirled in the direction of the demanding voice coming from afar.

Madame Nu…

Nila had again an odd sense of relief. A relief immediately doused when she caught a glimpse of the master and herself – there was little chance that their post rough-and-tumble in a seedy bar look strike the Archives Warden as anything remotely amusing.

"She'll have my head…" she groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Why? There's no reason " He looked down at the young woman who stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "What? We have a perfectly sensible explanation."

"Pardon me, but as it looks, the only _plausible_ explanation we have is a hasty roll in the hay, Master," she replied bluntly, glancing down the aisle.

Kenobi remained stoic. "Thank you for that edifying comment, however, the blood smeared on my tunic and your bruised face will tell her otherwise."

Nila had a suggestive snigger which only earned her an emphatic eye roll.

"Nila?"

"Yes, Madame! Over here," she called out as she pushed him back in the shadows.

"Shield yourself, you're not supposed to be here," she whispered before he could protest. He gave her an odd look but gave in when she dismissed him with a nervous wave of her hand.

Nila grabbed a holobook at random on a nearby shelf before Jocasta Nu made a beeline to her. The dignified elderly lady prided herself on being the most efficient archivist of the galaxy Nila often sported the idle thought that she had run all the others through and ruled over an ocean of data with a strong sense of authority and an outstanding absence of any sense of humour.

The heavy folds of her dress pooled handsomely at her feet as she arched an eyebrow at her assistant who was standing in the middle of the alley, a holobook under her arm apparently an outdated treatise about star fighters' stabilizer system nobody ever consulted.

"What are you doing up at this hour, young one?" she inquired.

The pointed look on the very unlikely holo was not lost on Nila who shifted uncomfortably. Although she had turned twenty-eight, the warden had her on her toes just as in her padawan years.

"I was finishing storing, my lady and getting ready to call it a night…" she said simply, for indeed, it was what she had intended to do before Kenobi was unleashed in the hall.

"And then the holobooks decided to attack you…" the warden concluded evenly, her eyes locked on the stains Kenobi's blood had left on her tunics.

Nila thought mournfully about how the night had started so peacefully.

Madame Nu pursed her lips slightly, a gesture which emphasized subtly the thin stern lines of the lower part of her face and called out. "I trust you found what you were looking for, Master Kenobi."

It was not a question but a confident statement.

Nila blanched a bit but remained dignified when the young master walked out of the aisle, a glimmer of mirth dancing in his eyes. His composure did not slip when he answered with a perfect natural: "Not quite yet, Madame, but I have the feeling that I'm getting closer."

"The entrance door was wide open," the caretaker carried on with a glance at the red smear on Kenobi's outfit. "I do hope that it is not what I suspect, Nila."

The knight's expression suddenly darkened.

Kenobi glanced at them curiously before explaining with a benign smile: "It was my fault. Knight Sohal didn't know I had your permission to work here past curfew and I startled her. I have just come back from a difficult mission on Yavin. I did not realize I was shielded."

Although it was clear that Madame Nu was not buying it one second, she nodded graciously as Nila shot him a sidelong glimpse. _Yavin_?

"I'm sorry for the trouble it caused," he said to Nila, interrupting her train of thought.

"It is quite all right, Master Kenobi. Did you just say you were "

"Nila. I do believe those holobooks still need to be sorted," Madame Nu cut in firmly.

Nila straightened up stiffly at the curt dismissal and managed a subdued "Yes, Madame" before retreating toward the abandoned stack of holobooks in the study area.

She made her way past the caretaker and the master absorbed in a quiet conversation trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the unworthy yet entertaining thought of feeding the Warden the holos she was holding.

The young woman was half way to the terminal when she felt the high stack becoming unstable. Her two arms were trapped under the pile and she was in plain view of the caretaker. Tricky. She tried various angles to balance it but the sleek cover increased the motion and the holo on the top slid perilously. Cursing under her breath, Nila eventually opted for levitating it back in place when she heard Madame Nu calling her. Her attention snapped for a mere second, enough for the holo to slip and crash down.

Nila flinched when the electronic book hit the floor, the sound echoing outrageously in the frozen silence off the archives' vaults. Closing her eyes a second, she turned to face the two other Jedi only to find them staring at something at her feet. Intrigued, Nila looked down.

The shock had activated the system. On the floor, a beam of light gushed from the translucent envelop. The walls all around them were suddenly covered with ancient characters, cabalistic signs and unfamiliar designs. A hushed voice started to chant with an odd lilt in what seemed to be an old dialect intertwined with a louder one singing in Basic:

**_The Queen's Archives, City of Almorch, 96th equinox of the Renewal Era_**_.— _

_To whoever reads these forgotten lines, mark me: from them shall the prophecy unravel… _

_At the beginning was Ossus, beautiful and blue, white and green, and untouched. Then came Mankind, small, fangless and clawless, without venom or strength, but with their faculty to tell good from evil or what they considered as such. Their desire for learning was great and soon their knowledge of Universe challenged all imaginations. One of them who went by the name of Sky __Walker__ eventually discovered the Fundamental Energy, the essence of life the Force. _

_But Mankind is weak, Mankind is fickle _

_All their knowledge good or dark, they poured in Seven Scrolls of wisdom and power. Seven Scrolls that could create or destroy. Seven Scrolls defying Nature itself._

_Their Vanity had a price and Harmony did not last. Their thirst for power seemed unquenchable and it eventually split them up. Soon, grief, strife, treachery and terror spread over the known world like an unstoppable plague. Fathers fought against their own sons, brothers against their own brothers until the world was ultimately consumed, swallowed by the sands of the Great Cataclysm. _

_The Seventh Scroll was lost and Ossus was no more. The survivors fled the ruins of the Ancient World to build another, but their knowledge was incomplete and they wandered for ages under the now unfathomable signs of the celestial vault. Their soul will forever bear the scar of the shattered balance between light and darkness. _

_Sorrow is upon us, our enemies are watchful and swift. Few are those who dare now to hope that the Horsemen will spring to life again to guide the Three appointed by the Runes of the prophecy. Only they can find the missing Scroll, only they can restore balance. Mark my words and beware!_

_O Children of Almorch, how unwise have you been…_

As the whispers went on, Nila could only watch transfixed on the dark patterns the hologram was projecting on her. The greenish shadow of a crescent was painted on her left breast. A wave of nausea hit her and her head felt fuzzy. Through her haze, she saw Kenobi reaching an arm toward the Holo. A crescent similar to the one she bore on her chest was etched on his right forearm and a strangely formed 'Y' marked his forehead.

The master snapped the book shut and the beam of light disappeared as the voices faded away. Nila snapped out of her stupor when she felt her arms buckle under the weight of the volumes she was still carrying. But before she could repeat the earlier feat, she was relieved from her charge. Kenobi was at her side rearranging the stack in his arms.

"Lead the way. I will take care of it," he said, nodding toward the Main Terminal. As soon as they had walked out of Madame Nu's earshot, he leaned slightly toward her and whispered:

"What was that?"

Nila seemed to ponder an answer as she pushed the data in the sorting system.

"Apparently a copy of a Holocron," she eventually murmured. "Certainly belongs to the Royal Archives – the old ones, long before Ossus' destruction and the advent of the Republic…But it's strange, the Holocrons are not accessible their content has been judged too dangerous to be copied and consulted by –"

The young woman suddenly broke off and straightened up. She addressed a polite smile to the master and hastily walked away. Obi-Wan Kenobi looked above his shoulder to find Madame Nu watching him impassively.


	3. In Nila's Voice

_Nila speaks..._

The Jedi believed in oneness. Simplicity was the key to everything. No emotion, no passion should come disturb the peace unifying body and soul.

Unmarked, unaffected, undoubting.

Such was the way of the Force.

However, the world they were sworn to protect followed a more chaotic pattern. Coruscant, imposing republican capital and location of the Jedi headquarters, was split by an intangible frontier between the wealthy Upper City and the Lower City bathing in a desolated fog. The two faces of the megalopolis fared surimposed but never mixed.

And the five Towers of the Temple, symbol of the ascetic Philosophy, neat bubble of perfection among the squalid multitude, illustrated so well that latent disconnection people had come to resent.

Rumours had started, discreet at first yet getting steadily stronger. The Federation's blockade, the Senate's inability to settle matters between an increasingly divided galaxy and the Jedi's silence – all had concurred to create a latent feeling of insecurity among the population. The politicians were not optimistic either. A nagging question kept going on the sly: how long would the old, outnumbered Order manage to keep threat at bay?

A justified question, for I also have the feeling the Jedi do not have the right means to read the world anymore.

Who am I to find fault with a millenarian dogma?

No one.

Nila Sohal, that's the name I had chosen for myself.

'_Ni-la'_

A feminine version of the word 'nilum,' coming to think of it.

_Nilum__, nili, _neutral: nothing, no one.

A rather accurate coincidence: I had not the faintest idea of how I had found my way in this world. Everything about my birth and my biological parents was a complete mystery. The absence of memories was the common lot of every Jedi as the future trainees were identified and brought to the Temple around the age of six months. No connection with the original circle was allowed afterwards.

The thing was I did not join the Jedi until I was twelve.

My first recollections date back to the years I spent at the Centre, a local association collecting the children found in the streets. They were looked after until they were old enough to become independent. It was only a transitory solution but our keepers treated us well. And, more important, we were not wandering outside.

I remember our habit to sneak out by the emergency stairs in little groups and climb up to the roof to watch the lights appear at dusk. It was awfully dangerous because of the surrounding traffic and the potential lurkers but for an hour or two, the roof became a fabulous craft carrying us high up in the blue where countless adventures waited to be lived.

One night, a few days before my sixth birthday, a craft did come on the roof, a real one this time, but the adventures that ensued had nothing in common with those we had imagined. Three kids were missing in the dorms the following morning and I was one of them.

Sad, regrettable, yes, yet almost predictable: children disappeared everyday in the streets. Everybody knew who did that and what for but no one dabbled with the Underworld business. So they said that was just the way it was and nobody could do anything about it.

Nine clans -- the "Families"-- had divided Coruscant's nights in nine zones of influence. Each of them had its tacit codes and rules. They controlled everything from the leisure market through the bars, the clubs and gambling joints to the legal businesses, which had to pay a 'protection tax' to the Family running the area. And of course there was spice, weapons and probably a fair part of the political affairs although no one knew exactly to what extent.

It was Mikan Santillian, the chieftain of the Household which would become my own who had first developed the idea of using children collected in the streets at a very young age. Once they were old enough, they were gathered in squads to perform various tasks like stealing data or equipment, dealing some spice...sometimes having some when the night just felt too long. We would also be sent when time had come for a debtor to pay back what he owed. In any case, the 'Cleaners,' the Family snipers, were never far.

Dreadfully efficient and as good as invisible, it goes without saying that Santillian's Children built a particularly eerie reputation in the circle.

My life as one of the Children passed in a strange state of stupor. Our hunts would invariably begin around midnight with the opening of the clubs. I recall this unshakable dread of being caught, injured or worse which would only recede when the horizon started to glow, signalling that everything was finally over until the next night. Then, with the practice, our anxiety lessened. Even the thrill of transgression we had experienced at the beginning wore off quickly.

I forgot most of my mates, their names, their faces... Except one. I used to have a friend there, she had small white hands and her voice was very soft.

Beryl... yes, it was her name.

We were inseparable.

Of course, the Family found out and moved her into another squad. Another method of theirs -- a solitary child bound to a group would not think of running away or question the life he had.

Beryl's disappearance hit me hard. I did not trust my other mates, she was the sole familiar face in my life besides those of our _Ardas_ –the Clan's chieftains-- and I waited for her to be moved back. Every night, for years, I waited. The Clan was my kin, they loved me, they could not mean it.

Despite all I had seen and done, I was still young enough at that time to think the world was made of inseparable things – men and women, men and gods, me and the Family.

It all ended brutally though, one night at the Saarliaban, a bar used by the Clan as headquarters and meeting point. I had been recently promoted squad leader and a distinct tension was hanging in the air when my team made its entrance. The rest of the clan was already in place, motioning gravely their guests of the evening in the back room.

We were late and Winsott, the right-hand man, urged us crisply to sit down in the main room and keep out of the way.

Our chieftain Mikan Santillian had consented to meet Nasrin'Lya, the leader of the Family running the North-East sector, after ten years of covered war. Big deal.

The bar was literally crammed with security guards blending in the crowd and it was quite certain that about the same number of Nasrin's Cleaners had positioned themselves somewhere outside if not inside the very building. The two clans were launching those peace negotiations sitting on a powder keg.

We joined the table of another squad and sat down unobtrusively. Just before the last members of the meeting walked past the door, Anjiil, my second, tugged my sleeve discreetly.

"Those two," she whispered, indicating two unfamiliar humans, a man and a woman, about to step in the reunion chamber. "I've never seen them before among Nasrin's folks."

She was right. We knew every member of Nasrin's clan and I couldn't recall anyone bearing the same tanned complexion enhanced by two golden beads between their eyes.

"What the hell is he thinking bringing newbies here?" I murmured in disbelief. No one would waltz in enemy territory introducing novices. And Nasrin was a Bothan, a born negotiator people blessed with a particularly paranoid nature…

We glanced at each other and back to the door. We knew we should tell Winsott something was not regular. If something went wrong, there would be some serious thrashing for us at the end of it. Yet we did not rise from our seats. I glimpsed the others who were talking quietly about their latest hunt. For some reason I could not quite explain, I joined the conversation, turning my back to the door which was now closed. Anjiil followed suit without asking questions.

The minutes ticked by, the animated rumble of the patrons went on just as any other night. But I could have almost sworn I felt it coming -- an odd lull coming from the backroom, a strange pulsation within me...

Suddenly, there was a muffled clamour, the backroom's doors shook and burst open. Len, one of our bouncers, tumbled backward and lay still, his eyes rolled upward, a dark slash tearing his chest open. The closest patrons turned around, startled into silence while the rest of the place was still full of laughters and cheerful chatter. We sprung to our feet only to dive to the floor as a flurry of blaster shots gushed from the backroom and blindly hit the crowd.

There was a stunned lull that seemed to stretch unnaturally until a scream split the air. From my spot under the table, I felt the mad vibration of the customers rushing toward the exit. Near me stood a pair of booted feet which appeared to sway a little. Anjiil! She was still up in the shooting range. As I grabbed her ankle to urge her down beside me, a tremor ran through her. I dragged her toward me as she struggled weakly to take cover. She seemed petrified, her limbs were growing heavier by the second. I had to clutch her jacket and shake her.

A shot zoomed past us.

With one final pull, she was under the table with me. Anjiil turned her head toward me and smiled wanly as she lay on her stomach, her fingers gripping mine. I felt a pain that was not mine. The lights had gone out; I could barely make out shapes around me, but another shot lit up my surroundings long enough for me to notice that her eyes had turned a glassy grey. Her hand was limp in mine and a trickle of blood poured from her parted lips. I gasped and crawled backward. My hand fell in a sticky wet substance and I looked, horrified, at the thick blood coating my fingers.

A pool of dark liquid had formed around a man slumped on the booth behind me, his face hidden in his arms. The girl was staring at me with her dead gaze a few feet away -- a wave of nausea wrenched my stomach before instinct took over. I dodged the bodies and stumbled away, vaguely trying to spot my other mates in the confusion. A complete pandemonium had broken loose in the bar. In all the years I had spent in the Underworld, I had never witnessed such a slaughter.

Suddenly, a lanky frame materialized in front of me. A rush of relief flooded me as I recognized _Arda_ Eru Santillian, our chieftain's son.

"Where do you think you're going, kid?" he barked, identifying me. "The place is swarmed with Jedi, Nasrin set us up," he shouted over the racket as he pushed me ahead, covering us with his blaster. "Go hide under the bar and don't move until I come get you. Understood?"

Lost as I felt, I turned to obey promptly. Eru was a young Arda, only a few years older than me but a great deal taller and not to be crossed. So I ran…

As I climbed the half collapsed bar, a rough hand seized me by the collar and jerked me back roughly. A blaster barrel pressed on the nape of my neck. Unable to break free, I stopped struggling. In my head, words kept going:

_It cannot end here, it cannot end here, not this way, it cannot…_

It lasted but a split second before I sensed_ it_. It tingled all over, a strength that was not my own which seized my body as if every particle of tension scattered around the room had been summoned to me. It swelled fast, overflowing me and my lids slid shut on their own accord.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw my assailant lying limply against a wall at the far end of the room. I had not moved an inch and no one had come to my rescue…

I regained my bearing in time to glimpse another man standing a few meters away. Two small golden beads marking the bridge of his nose and his forehead were catching the faint light. I recognised him. His gaze was riveted on me with an expression of mild surprise while mine fell on the silvery handle in his hand -- a Jedi!

Guessing my intentions, he slowly shook his head before I'd even started to back away.

I turned to run only to realize that a couple of Nasrin's men had approached when I was not paying attention. Their features were contorted with rage as they glanced from their fallen comrade to me.

They dropped dead mid air as they sprung forth, neatly slashed before they could even realize what had occurred, the one after the other.

I stared down at them in disbelief and I raised my head to find that the Jedi was now standing beside me. He did not touch me; he did not talk; he just looked down at me as I dimly registered that around us the racket had abated. I held his gaze with an odd sense of foreboding.


	4. Two Level Minds in Crooked Times

It had been a whole week since Nila had met master Obi-Wan Kenobi and from that night on, things had started to go completely awry in her listless life.

First, this absurd fight which could have had serious consequences. That kind of accident simply did _not_ happen to a couple of confirmed Jedi.

Shortly after this, a subtle impression of change had started to float in the air. It felt like a presence, only fainter as though very distant. It would never last long, just a few seconds, sometimes even less. She would suddenly raise her head from the task at hand without apparent reasons drawing curious glances or turn around sharply while walking in the long corridors of the Temple only to find she was alone. And then there had been those dreams… Faces and symbols she had never seen, floating in her mind. Each day found her a little more agitated.

One thing though turned out to be certain: somebody –someone real this time was also keeping a close eye on her. One day as she was looking for a trainee's record, she discovered that hers had been consulted several times. The name of the user was undisclosed but she had little doubt about the identity of her stalker. He obviously did not care about being found out.

At first, Nila had not changed her habits, wishing to see what he would do next. But a week later, things were not any clearer and her patience was wearing thin so Nila decided it was time she had handled things her way.

One evening, an hour or two after curfew, Nila slipped out of the Archives and silently walked down the main gallery a few minutes after a cloaked figure. She took a lift down and another, reckoning they were taking the direction of the Temple's hangar.

Once in the vast vehicle shed, the cloaked shape took its time to choose a transport while she stood tightly shielded behind a craft. But as soon as her mental shields were in place it came back this harrowing impression she had felt in the Archives. It was very distinct this time: as though a thick sheet of icy water surrounded her and slowly pervaded her mind. From what seemed to be miles away she thought she heard a noise.

The phenomenon immediately subsided just as a loud clatter startled her completely out of her trance. Nila frantically searched the hangar's shadow and spotted the launch pad retracting into place and the entrance sliding closed. He was gone.

Nila pressed her knuckles to her temples. What was happening to her? It had felt as though something was standing close, something powerful and sad as slippery and cold as the skin of a fish….

Not wasting another second, Nila activated the opening system and climbed into the nearest air speeder.

* * *

It was a quiet mid week evening and in the bar overhanging the city, the few customers scattered in the spacious room sipped their drinks and talked in subdued tones. She spotted him at once. Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting on his own in a large armchair by the bay window, absently studying the reddish content his glass. He did not grace her with a look as she stood at his side, mute and glaring.

"It took you long enough," he commented flatly, downing his drink in one go.

Their eyes met, sizing up each other in a glance before he motioned the seat across from him almost dismissively.

"I'll have you know that I don't like being stalked, Master Kenobi and that I am not very fond of your manners, Jedi Master or not," Nila finally snapped.

"I am not overly fond of yours either, Knight Sohal. But turn about is fair play, don't you think?"

Slightly confused, Nila stood her ground nonetheless. "I came here because the Temple isn't the best place to have the conversation I want to have with you. Now, I'd like to know why you have been following me constantly this past week."

His eyebrows rose in an exaggerated expression of surprise. "Strange. I'm here for the exact same motive."

"Pardon me?" Nila frowned, understanding less and less. "Why would I do that?"

"You tell me."

Wrong angle of attack Nila reckoned. Obi-Wan Kenobi had the reputation of being one of the best investigators of the Order, if she wanted to learn anything, better smooth things over a bit.

"I am just as puzzled as you, Master. I came here for answers," she admitted more humbly.

His expression remained blank as he fixed a cold calculating gaze on her. "Then what happened the other night?" he eventually said.

Nila could tell that Kenobi was still ticked off but his tone had changed: under the question pierced a subtle expression of uncertainty. Relieved to see she had not imagined things, Nila lowered her guard a little. "We haven't been acting like ourselves lately, have we? I think we didn't meet by chance."

She regretted her words as the pugnacious spark was instantly back in his eyes.

"We finally agree upon something, Knight Sohal, since the data disk I was using is still in your pocket." He leaned back against the booth and crossed his arms on his chest. "And I'd like to know why."

Nila suddenly remembered the old Valayn excerpt. Her hand mechanically patted her cloak's pockets and froze as she realized he was right. With all the events of the precedent week, she had completely forgotten about the disk. Her confidence sagged a notch – oh, she would have a very hard time talking her way out of that one.

"Well, I might point out the fact that if I wanted this text I would have needed to have it translated and you can't do that without Madame Nu's agreement. But I doubt it would suffice," the young woman eventually said. "So, let us say that I'm keeping the disk as a return of favours. Nosing in my record _was_ pushing it, Master."

"I'm glad you bring up the matter," he retorted with a grim smile. "I found out in your record that before your knighthood you were assigned to the Unit under the lead of Master Idriss Rehyu."

"I was. We were monitoring several Families."

Kenobi nodded evasively. The Unit had had a separate status and a rather poor reputation in the Order. The unruliness of the ten members coupled with specificity of their tasks had cut them from the rest of their peers and few had mourned the abrupt end of the Unit's experience.

"Monitoring? I read about a few disciplinary hearings for _molesting_ Senate agents…"

His tone got to her. "You have _no_ idea how to deal with th"

"No," he cut off. "Of course not. Only _you_ knew while the rest of us spent our time chatting over a cup of tea."

Nila sat back, trying to restrain herself.

"And the best is to come..."

"The best?" she inquired rhetorically, hating the sudden weakness in her voice. Her links with the Mob were certainly established in the file. In bold letters.

"Nothing!" Kenobi exclaimed. "Birth place and date – _unknown. _Birth name – _unknown_. Parentage – _unknown_. And it goes on until you reach twelve years of age as if you popped into existence at that point! Who the blast are you?"

The young woman stared at him, stunned. The Council had erased all connections with her past.

"Answer me, Sohal. Why is your record empty?"

"I don't know!" Nila answered forcefully.

He was a master, she owed him respect and to some extent, obedience. But giving her the third degree without even telling her the reason why was in no way part of his prerogatives.

"Try to make an effort, please," he sighed. "I need to know if I can trust you."

Nila had a cheerless smile. "You mentioned a mission on Yavin and nothing had been programmed there for about a year. How can I know if _I_ can trust _you_?"

A ghost of a smile seemed to flicker on his face.

"Now," she went on. "Are you going to tell me why I am here or will we chat to night away until I guess?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi pressed his lips tightly, looking hesitant all the sudden.

"Our meeting was intentional. In a way," he finally said.

He sensed her intent gaze on him and absently brushed his fingers through the ginger locks framing his face.

"Are you aware of our founding myths, Knight Sohal?"

"Ah. So this is about the Queen's Archive fragment I dropped the other night, isn't it? The prophecy of the Seventh Scroll…"

Easy guess: the Lost Scroll was the center of all the Core World mythology.

Kenobi nodded and announced gravely. "A few days ago we picked up a new trail of the Scroll."

Despite the rhetorical effect, the young woman looked rather unmoved if not bored. "Congratulations. What is the link with me?"

"The Underworld."

Nila Sohal's face blanched and she immediately motioned him to be silent.

"What is it?"

No answer. With her eyes focused on something behind him, she slowly drew her hood over her head. He turned around to discover that a small group of four or five children had walked in the bar. Their faces were pale and gaunt, their sharp eyes gleamed with an alertness to which little escaped. One of them suddenly turned his head in their direction and stared back at the Jedi master. He was young, yet there was something ageless and void in his gaze. The Master stared at the child until he felt Nila give a sharp tug at his sleeve.

"For Force's sake don't do this!" she whispered.

"Are they…?"

"The Children? Yes. The eyes and ears of the Mob. They're doing their daily hunt but this is the first time I've seen them stray from the Families' territory. I wonder what the Families are up to."

"I think we should leave this place before finding out," he said.

She nodded as he rose, drawing his own hood up and walked towards the exit. Nila briefly glanced back in the bar to see five sets of sharp little eyes staring at them. She unconsciously picked up the pace.

* * *

Alzo surveyed the Plaza from above his half-finished canvas and nodded to himself. It was a busy, delightful evening. The old Sullustan picked up some cobalt paint from his case and smudged it with a well-practised gesture on the sleek surface of his palette. With a few flicks of his brush, the unctuous texture blended with the white and the red and the gold. Soon, the old painter smiled as he obtained the exact shade of Coruscant's evening sky.

Something was definitively missing though. He put down his brush while his attention flitted back to the crowd and he absently started to wait for something or someone, a gesture, a shift of a fabric, a face standing out of the multitude. He liked to believe in unplanned encounters.

Tonight was different though, he reminded himself. He was on duty and there would be no room for chance. Alzo sighed wearily thinking he was getting too old for this and paid more attention to the crowd.

He did not have do wait too long. She had suddenly appeared in the crowd a few meters away.

What could be so threatening about this young human? She was not spectacular. His eyes followed the line of her jaw delicate but stubborn, straying only for a moment on the dark brown hair pulled in a loosened braid. Her eyebrows arched over large dark eyes among pleasant yet unremarkable features. Almost unconsciously, he started to draw her outline on his sketchpad, trying to capture that ungraspable thing emanating from her…

Not striking, no but something else… with an edge and a charm. Something ageless about her and potent too.

His eyes shifted to the man walking at her side. Taller and perhaps more obviously attractive as a man than she as a woman, her companion seemed to be explaining something, absent-mindedly bending his broader frame toward her as if to convey a point. They were talking a little stiffly and yet, as they strolled in the anonymity of the crowd, it seemed that there was only the two of them.

But humans never knew where to look, did they?

Coming to think of it, the man's clear gaze was strangely familiar to Alzo although he could not have possibly painted his portrait…

A warm breeze swept between the buildings and made their dark cloaks swell and flutter like a sail. Alzo caught the glimmer of laser swords. It was time. Somehow reluctantly, he dropped his brush as planned. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the small form of a child scurry away. There, the signal had been given, his part was over.

"Are you out of your mind!" the woman screeched, stopping cold in the middle of the Plaza. Her outburst made several heads turn their way. She pushed an inexistent lock of dark hair from her face to give herself some composure. The painter chuckled and started to pack up his things. Before returning to his home and his wife, he caught the woman's eyes and addressed a quiet smile to her, forming a silent wish for her.

"Striking a bargain with the Families to get back the Scroll? _Honestly_," Nila said more discreetly to appease a glaring Kenobi. She watched the wizened Sullustan who had been observing them for a while disappear in the crowd. She secured the cloak around her to make sure it concealed her uniform before returning her attention to the master.

"Even if it's only a strong probability we can't take any risk," he answered shortly as he reached for her elbow and urged her on. She allowed him to lead her for a few steps before disengaging her arm. "Then measure the odds, Master and see what you're risking chasing after a symbol. It's endearing but it will hardly get you anywhere. The Seventh Scroll is only a part of this mythical time of absolute balance in the Force."

Nila remembered the tale her master had told her and the strange awe it never failed to foster. Six scrolls conserved in the forbidden lore of the Jedi Archives in Holocron form gathered the ancestral knowledge of both the Sith and the Jedi.

Three for the light Ashla and three for darkness Bogan .

The Seventh was for the equilibrium between the two sides of the Force.

This Scroll had been lost during the Great Sith War when the ancient world of Ossus had been devastated and the Jedi compelled to move to Coruscant. The origins of this story were lost in time but it had always been whispered that the destiny of the Order was deeply connected with the reappearance of the Scroll. Either a great unification or utter destruction would ensue. All depended on the way it would be used once found.

The usual dramatic bit.

"Fine. Where exactly did you locate it?" she asked with lukewarm interest.

"A place you know well. The Eastern sector of the Lower City."

Her face fell for a second before she got a hold of herself. "Kiel Taev's territory," she murmured.

Then, her face regained its impassibility and her tone became brisk and professional. "Allow me to be frank, Master. Your planning appears so far tremendously chancy. Two main reasons to that. First, ever since Palpatine became Chancellor, the new crime policy is ruthless. All the clans are completely keyed up and if a conflict breaks out now, it will be unstoppable. Secondly, Taev rules one of the 'Big Three'the three most powerful households of Coruscant. He has an upper hand on everything going on in his sector and beyond. No one in the Underworld would stand in his way."

Nila paused, missing the look he was fixing on her. From the slight flush on her cheeks and the gleam in her eyes that had not been there a few minutes ago, he could tell she definitely enjoyed being back to field business. Why this woman was a warden assistant was a mystery to him.

"The danger is real, Master. If disturb the mud at the bottom of the pond, you'll have no ally," she concluded. "The chieftains will never accept a bargain from the Jedi."

"It has happened before if I'm not mistaken."

"_Two_ Families out of _nine_ had an arrangement with _the Unit_. The Unit was dismissed, end of the agreement."

"Well, the Council decided "

"Oh, of course,_ if_ the Council decided…" Nila mimicked with a smirk though she was anything but amused. "And what is your plan once down there? Swagger in and save the day?"

"Well. I won't be alone to er…_swagger_. It seems."

Her eyes narrowed. Kenobi moved to speak but she threw up a hand. "No, let me guess. The Elders set this up to get me involved whether I like it or not?" she fumed. "But there is a reason why I stay at the Temple. Do you know what those people do when one of them switches sides, screws up one of their major operations and causes some of their best elements to be sentenced to death?"

"I guess they ambush the person during a routine operation and slaughter the majority of the Unit she works with," he replied before saying more gently. "That much was in your report."

Nila looked away. It had been a minor mission indeed… She had spotted the Cleaners too late. There had been the blaster shots that had wrenched Idriss Rehyu's sabre from his hand, the muffled sound of the second impact on his chest, his noiseless fall… There had been nothing to do; he had been gone before he had even hit the floor.

"I do not give you a day down there," the young woman declared slowly. "And I personally have a better use of my time than to barge into my worst enemy's territory."

"Like what? Sorting holobooks? Listen, I was assigned to get back the Holocron, but I admit that I can't do it alone. I think that the outcome of this mission could… well, 'bail you out' of the Archives to practice again permanently."

He hoped he had made a point with his last statement.

"Bail me out to find my head on a stick. An improvement, I'm sure," she grumbled.

"You cannot hide from them indefinitely."

Her jaw tightened. "My decision is unchanged, Master, I'm sorry. If you don't mind, I'd like to go back to the Temple by myself."

He lowered his eyes to the ground. "It's dangerous. Allow me to walk you there; we'll get the speeders later."

The offer was a tad stiff.

"I will be fine. I'm in plain view of the Temple's spires."

He nodded though clearly unconvinced. "Good night, then."

He turned round and within seconds, he was swallowed by the crowd.

Nila rubbed her fingers over her burning lids, wincing as her calluses caught on the sensitive skin. When she opened her eyes, she saw a girl no older than ten, standing still a few meters away in the moving crowd, considering her gravely. By the gaunt aspect of the small face and the alert knowing eyes, there was no mistaking her for a regular kid. A wave of dread coursed through Nila and she searched the crowd to spot the child's mates. But she was alone. Without further notice, the girl turned around and started to walk away. She looked back expectantly as though to make sure the knight took the hint.

Nila found herself falling in step behind her. After all, if they wanted to kill her it would have been done by now and they would have not bothered to send a messenger.

They left the Plaza and went into the narrow streets lined with colourful little shops. She followed until a group momentarily blocked her view and separated her from the child. By the time they cleared the way, the little girl was nowhere to be seen. Nila exhaled exasperatedly and began to retrace her steps.

Suddenly, she paused and turned her head to the left. She saw nothing but a dark passage yet her senses indicated something there. She drew closer, cursing her curiosity and lack of better judgment.

"Well, long time, no see, Knight Sohal," drawled a shape that detached itself from the wall against which it was leaning.

Nila distinctly felt her jaw drop a good inch. Her voice failed her.

"Eru," was all she could murmur.


	5. Who I Am Not in Fact

I can feel now the void he left after him.

Idriss Rehyu.

It is an unfamiliar sensation, it's heavy, sad and yet almost… pleasant.

After the violent pain and anger I experienced when he died, it seems that I did not take time to simply miss him. I was so determined to push him out of my mind to go on and I realize that today, I can't quite remember his voice.

He was a man of few words anyway, swift and practical. And noble too, something he did try to pass on to me without seeking to erase the first part of my life. One day it was as if the veil had been lifted from my eyes, I was standing in the blue, well above the fog, my whole existence in perspective.

But it took time, for I cannot say that I considered my arrival at the Temple as a salvation of any kind.

At the precise moment I passed the gates, all those years of exhausting training to make myself a name among my clan were reduced to ashes. Once again, someone had decided that I had to start all over and I was tired of it.

A healer came to me, pleased to announce that a blood sample had revealed that I was Force sensitive. I held her gaze until she looked away, flummoxed and uneasy.

I smiled thinly. There was no way I could go back to the Family now, but I would not give in to anyone without a fight.

I put my resolution to action right away with some serious struggle at the sickbay. The healers had to bodily remove my arms clutched to my chest and hold me down so they could get me out of my clothes and carry on their check up. The Togruta healer who was murmuring soothing words stopped cold when my tunic tore up and revealed my arms. His eyes followed the tell tale bruises and tiny scars lacing the bend of my arms and he shook his head of deep scarlet sadly.

I started to feel sick. It was suddenly too hot and those quarters seemed oppressively cramped. The healers kept their voices low. I only made out the words 'withdrawal' and 'Rehyu.' Perspiration was trickling down my brow as I shifted restlessly on the narrow cot. I rubbed the bend of my arms where my scars were starting to burn. I needed to get out of here.

The chief healer rushed back to my side as I managed to rip one of my IV off. She was the human woman I had seen at the Saarliaban the night before and bore the same golden adornments as the knight who had taken me there. She calmly told me her name was Depa Billaba and stilled my bloodied hands now weak and trembling.

"We can help you to get rid of the poison they injected in your system all those years, child. But only if you decide to fight it with us."

Above her shoulder, I saw Idriss Rehyu leaning against the doorframe and looking straight at me. I held that gaze intently, searching it for answers and guarantee. His eyes did not waver. I stopped resisting and let the healers proceed.

Odd decision…

The following weeks went by in the haze of sickness and pain. But any time I would open my eyes, Idriss would be there, quiet and watchful, undergoing the ordeal with me. He was the only company I tolerated.

Later, when I started to recover, we began to talk very little at first as neither of us were the conversational type then his daily visits gradually prompted longer discussions. He spoke about the Jedi and the ancient religion binding them to the Force. He also told me of his missions and particularly the one which had caused our encounter how Nasrin had accepted to work with them to see his rival fall, and how Santillian had managed to escape. A link built, slow but strong and years after his death, I think I can tell for sure that it never faltered once in the eleven years that our partnership lasted.

The young knight he was at the time was dedicated to what the Order called the Unit a special detachment of Jedi whose task was to monitor the various activities of the Families from the inside, break off their different networks in the city and foil their operations. I saw where he was getting at but I could not help myself, I was fascinated by him, by his tales, by this unknown sense of greatness. So when he said that I would probably be able help them in the future, I felt my heart glow.

I remained isolated for an indeterminate amount of time until I was judged healthy enough to explore the sanctuary while Knight Idriss was meeting the Council to discuss my case. I spent the day gawking at the long galleries topped by heavy arches where beams of light poured down from the high windows. Padawans and knights draped in ample cloaks seemed to float rather than walk, lost in thought or discussing peacefully with a fellow.

_'Out of place'_ hardly covered the way I felt. But I deemed myself rather cunning and was certain of my superiority as far as dealing with the reality of the world was concerned. I have to confess that I still do. Rather immodestly…

Idriss came to my room after the audience, looking strained and tired. I had not made too good an impression.

Although the Seven Masters had acknowledged my knack for survival and my fighting skills, the greater part of them still deemed preferable to send me to the Agricorps once my initiation would be over.

"Too many restrictions, too many risks," reported Idriss dejectedly. They had spoken of their concern about the way I would use the Force in the future and my potential bad influence on the other trainees. Of course, they were acting for my own good and the Order's one etc.

The Agricorps! Spending my life nurturing vegetables in some gods' forsaken place!

This new rejection hit me a lot harder than in the past but I was not about to admit that aloud. I had not asked for anything and I was furious against Rehyu for bringing me at the Temple.

But he did not give up.

For the time remaining before my thirteenth birthday where my fate would be settled, he tirelessly argued with the Elders. He was sure I was a blessed source of information for the Unit.

However, Master Billaba who sat among the members of the Council, had another opinion on the matter.

"She is violent, Idriss. She has been conditioned to be this way since she was a child. And do I have to remind you she is already twelve years of age?" she stated, observing her compatriot and dear friend. "Considering those facts and her recent past in the Underworld, how can we allow her to become a Padawan? Logically, she should not even be trained."

"Nila will behave, Master," asserted Knight Rehyu in his usual concise manner. "May I remind the Council that there have been precedents? Some children older than the usual required age have been trained to become knights."

The Elders shrugged, some even voiced their protests. Master Yoda lifted a hand to silence them and turned toward Master Windu.

The leader of the Council sighed wearily; those incessant negotiations had to reach an end.

"You know that the Unit is not a suitable place for a trainee or a padawan."

Idriss raised his calm black eyes on the elder Jedi and played his last card. "I'm ready to answer for her in front of this Council."

The leap of faith.

The Chamber fell completely silent.

"Well… " started Master Windu, slightly taken aback. "You do realize what you are implying by that, don't you?"

Rehyu nodded.

Windu briefly exchanged a glance with Master Yoda then made a weary gesture with his hand.

"Very well, let us imagine that under certain conditions we allow her to become an apprentice as you just requested…"

The young knight had won. After a few minutes, the assembly was dismissed and every one trailed toward the exit.

Master Billaba caught up with her newly promoted compatriot. "Be careful, Idriss. I fear there might be some consequences you and I cannot even fathom," she whispered.


	6. Late Night Conversation

A message issued by the Council was waiting for Nila Sohal when she returned to the Temple two days later, an hour before curfew. Not overly surprised, she checked her data pad to find that she was summoned in one of the main tower's meditation rooms.

"That Master Kenobi doesn't give up easily, does he?" she mused aloud.

A few minutes later, she found Master Windu was sitting cross-legged on one of the seats with his eyes closed. The shades were drawn over the panoramic view, isolating the small chamber from the rest of the world, distilling a softened light.

Nila stood at the entrance, silently waiting for the Master to acknowledge her presence.

"You seem troubled, Nila," he said, opening his eyes.

"The last days have been rather…bumpy, I must confess," Nila answered with sobriety.

"So I have heard," he replied, looking vaguely amused. "Master Kenobi said you are quite… atypical."

"You'll recognise here the diplomat's touch," she muttered.

The Master smiled faintly. "I have no doubt you will find Obi-Wan is indeed a skilled mediator."

Nila arched an eyebrow. "Will I, Master?"

The young woman turned her head, eyeing the room in confusion.

"Where is the rest of the Council?"

Kneeling out of view behind the balcony's railing, Obi-Wan Kenobi carefully adjusted his binoculars. In the opposite building, a few windows down, a dozen of faces became visible. Unfortunately, none of them were really familiar. The Jedi sighed in frustration and sat back on his heels. The Families bosses rarely reunited and this new agreement between Santillian and Anhkshar, head of a minor clan ruling theTenth District, was a Force-sent opportunity to do some useful observation. That is, if you knew _who_ you were observing…

And he would if Nila Sohal had not barged in while he was memorizing the coded disc featuring the detailed portrait of each key figure of the Families on the cursed night they met…. He had bought the precious information a small fortune to one of the snitches hired by the Senate. And now he looked a right fool. Drawing a knee up against his chest, he rubbed his bearded chin pensively.

Suddenly, the Master shot out his arm behind him and snatched something crouched in the shadow of the balcony. Still on his knees, he pined down the indistinct form which gave a startled gasp. It thrashed about against his restraining grip, sending the binoculars over the edge. Both went still when the item crashed on another terrace, a few meters down. When the shock echoed loudly on the smokescreen structures Kenobi had them duck down before the clan's bodyguards rushed to the window.

He risked a glance over the railing and seeing they had not been spotted, he returned to the intruder, squinting his eyes against the obscurity and heaved a tired sigh.

"Spectacular entrance," he commented blankly.

As a groan of pain answered him, he abruptly released the young woman at his feet. Rubbing her skull where it had hit the floor, Nila Sohal sat up and eyed him cautiously.

"What was—"

A large palm clamped her mouth shut.

"Wrong," he said in a clipping low voice. "I am the one who asks questions and--"

Without warning, Nila wrenched his hand from her face and threw herself at him. Taken off guard, Kenobi was knocked off balance and fell flat on his back, with her weight pinning his upper half down. She muffled his protests and raised her eyes pointedly in the direction of a light scraping noise coming from the balcony above. Kenobi froze as he saw two feet, followed by a pair of legs dangling in the void, groping for the support of the railing. The Jedi remained very still, hidden in the shadow, watching the progression of the man as he tugged on the thin rope securing him, motioning to some invisible person above to follow. Six other black clad shapes repeated his moves. Silently, they passed one by one and disappeared under the railing, landing on the next floor down.

A prudent whisper came by Nila's ear. "What was that?"

"A problem," she murmured back and rolled off him as silently as possible. She dug into her backpack, extracted binoculars but Kenobi's hand fell on her wrist.

"What are you doing here?"

"Master Windu sent me," she said testily, trying to loosen his grip. "The bad news is the Council is not really leaving us the choice of partner during the mission…"

"What's the good one?"

"Do you honestly see anything good about this situation?" she growled.

He released her. "You refused this mission and it was your right. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

He tossed her backpack to her in blatant dismissal and returned to his point of observation. Instead of taking her leave, Nila sat back on her heels and pointed the flat he had been watching.

"Could you tell me who the man beside the table is?"

"I thought I have been quite clear, Knight Sohal."

"Please answer the question, Master."

"Anhkshar."

"Which one?"

"Which one?" he repeated blandly.

"The clan recently split, this is his nephew who obviously doesn't know what he's getting into. Undisciplined fool… Santillian will strip his clan of everything it possesses before he knows what hit him," she remarked idly, shaking her head.

Kenobi stared at her profile, a trifle ill-at ease in the face of her serene air of experience.

"You are well informed."

"Which is why you tried to contact me that night in the Archives, isn't it? What I see here confirms what I first thought. You won't last a day," she answered, ignoring his scowl. "Now as for what is happening beneath us…" She crawled back toward the edge with her binoculars without paying mind to the master's scowl. The black clad group had settled on a balcony a few floors below and was also observing the Family gathering.

"See the tallest human on the right?" she whispered. "That's Thranton, lieutenant of the Republican Anti-crime Intervention Detachment…"

"I know who he is, thanks you."

"Well, you can thank your lucky star they didn't spot us, Master."

He shrugged. "We represent the Order here."

"Do you think they care? With the whole Senate backing them?" Nila shook her head disbelievingly.

Kenobi leaned back in the shadow. "We'll have some competition here then."

Nila's face was grim. "_Serious_ competition. For all it's legal, the RAID's methods aren't so different from the Families'."

Below them the reunion was reaching its conclusion. She sat back, absently biting her thumbnail. "The Families don't have the Scroll."

Kenobi cast her a sidelong glance. "This is a very definitive judgment for a person who has cut all connections with that circle for over four years."

"A matter of logic, Master Kenobi," Nila answered apparently undeterred. "First, the Scroll has no mercantile value, secondly only a trained Force sensitive person can wield it. And finally, they are not stupid enough to keep something that would send the whole Order after them."

"But they know the Order would do anything to recover it. Even if they don't actually have it they can use it as a lure."

Nila had to concede. "True. They're certainly using it to draw our attention on Taev."

"Who could very well be the one," he rejoined. "He's well-known for his taste for collecting rarities."

"Let's stick to proofs, Master. If we can avoid direct confrontation, we will."

"I do what I must, Sohal. He's suspect, and to speak bluntly so is your attitude."

"This is not a witch hunt," Nila shot back between her teeth.

Kenobi suddenly dropped the matter and re-angled the conversation. "I don't remember telling Master Windu where this reunion would be."

"It was not difficult to figure out. Anhkshar is not really discreet."

"You got it from Eru Santillian," he stated. "And the answers are yes, I followed you and yes, because I did not trust you. Witch hunt of not, Knight Sohal, I was right to take some precautions it seems."

Nila turned around to look straight at him. "If it can reassure you, his father wants me dead and will accept nothing from me. It's their code and Eru will not be the one to break it."

Kenobi took the binoculars from her. "I know, why do you think you're still on this balcony?" He leaned over the edge and took a look at the activities of the RAID beneath them. "So what did this Eru tell you?"

"Rumours have been going round about the Scroll lately but the Senate's snitches and informants have nothing tangible which means that Thranton is in the dark too. However, we have an opportunity to collect information directly from the Mob. Two weeks from now, a major meeting will gather most of the chieftains in the 12th District to celebrate the opening of an affiliate of Sofica Inc., one of Santillian's cover businesses. The only way to get in is to be invited. Thranton is out on this one."

"An occasion to meet Kiel Taev?"

She shook her head. "No. They are not on speaking terms since one of Taev's partners has been killed by Santillian's men two months ago. Taev is a loner anyway -- he rarely appears in this kind of public displays. Mikan Santillian will only make a short appearance at the beginning: Eru will play the host. He invited us."

This last piece of news did not sit well with the Master. "How did he know you were on this case?"

She smiled thinly. "The Children. Eru serves his clan but he owed me. As long as we remain discreet and keep our nose out of their business, we'll have an agreement."

The expression on Kenobi's face darkened. He obviously disliked the idea of being obliged to one of the Families Ardas.

"The Mob isn't exactly a philanthropic society. We are bound to turn a blind eye on some things if we want to learn something," she argued.

"The reunion is over," said the Master as the lights went out in the opposite building. "Let's move."

Once safely back in the Temple's hangar, Nila climbed down from her speeder and strode toward the exit where Kenobi was waiting.

"We will need to get the detail of the prophecy," he informed her. "I'll see you in the Archives at 0800 sharp."

He turned to leave but Nila stopped him immediately. "Let's be clear: I'm not taking orders from you. It's a partnership we have."

Kenobi did not answer and strode out toward the lifts. As they waited for the elevator, Nila let the situation sink in. She would have never thought her steps would bring her again to the Underworld. The Lower City…. Had it changed much in four years?

The Council had been clear: whatever happened, they were on their own. Nila was used to it; this job remained what she had been trained for all her life and the only thing she knew she was good at. The real question was, would she be able to stay focused facing those who had brought the Unit down?

"Despite the fact that we've been paired up against our better judgment we will have to work together from now on," Kenobi said after a moment, somewhat primly. "It means that we cannot afford to be outwardly hostile with each other."

"Are you suggesting a truce?" she inquired with fake innocence.

"Something like that," he mumbled.

"A truce during which you will refrain from openly questioning my integrity?" Nila pushed.

Master Kenobi quirked a slightly annoyed eyebrow but nodded his assent.

"It's a deal then," she said.

He was right: they would have to learn how to rely on each other without second thoughts and the sooner, the better. Nila looked for something to tell him, something a bit personal to loosen the tension. But what? She grimaced. Breaking the ice between them was a lot more difficult than what she had thought. After a moment, she cleared her throat clumsily.

"Considering what we're about to launch ourselves into, I understand why people are so reluctant to give over their children to the Temple," she started, forcing a hollow chuckle, inwardly wincing at how lame she sounded. "There are times when I would love to be a glorious nobody."

He was glancing out a large window, his attention obviously not on her anymore as he answered: "Seems to me that your wish is already granted."

The elevator chimed and opened, allowing him to step in as Nila stood still for a second, her eyebrows raising a good inch.

_Ouch._

"Under the apparent urbanity you're exceptionally rude, you know that?" she said as she went to stand by his side. She glanced at him just in time to see a ghost of a smile form on his lips.

The elevator reached quickly the Main Hall and opened on the trim figure of Depa Billaba, chief healer of the Temple. As the two Jedi exited, she paused long enough to greet Master Kenobi but when it came to Nila, the Master healer's face lost all expression. Without a word, she walked past them and stepped in the cabin. The Jedi master shot a mildly curious look at his partner.

"My Master and she were compatriots and close friends," Nila said bluntly. "She holds me responsible for his death."

Kenobi did not press the matter but Nila noticed that he looked about to say something but remained quiet. The young woman chose to pick up the conversation where they had left it. "You are aware that I won't be able to assist you directly every time you meet the Mob, aren't you? We will prepare everything together and but you'll be the only one they will see. It means you will need to be introduced."

"Introduced?"

"Yes, we're talking about an official interview with the Family's Advisors. Someone who has their respect and trust has to recommend and answer for you. It's an old custom."

"Can you provide?"

"Eru has already accepted to do it for you. The assembly will judge if you are a man of honour. Only then will you be allowed to speak with Santillian himself."

Nila had a small smirk. Ah, to see Obnoxious Kenobi, ethical Jedi Master, making his debut in the Underworld… This job still had its perks.

"What about the documents concerning the prophecy and the Scroll …" he queried.

"Most of it is in the Forbidden Lore…" she stopped cold when she saw his expression. "Oh. No. no, no, no. This is_ not_ a good idea, Master Kenobi."

"You can find a way to get to the lore past Madame Nu's vigilance. I can't. Not without being seen."

The word _'Doom'_ distinctly echoed in Nila's head and it must have showed on her face for a sharkish grin tugged at the master's lips.

"There is no reason to be worried," he soothed. "Not if you are not caught…"

They parted way at the end of the hall. As she started to walk away, he called her back.

"Have you ever tried to escape when you were a child?"

She shook her head. "No."

"May I ask why?"

Nila hesitated then she drew nearer and rolled the different layers of fabric on her right arm up to her elbow. The master saw small white marks winding around her veins, following an imprecise pattern at the bend of her arm.

"Solicaine," she simply answered before letting go of her sleeve and resuming her walk. "Until we meet again, Master Kenobi."

Kenobi watched the retreating figure with saddened eyes. Solicaine was a substance extracted from soliculus, a pretty yellow flower no bigger than his thumbnail grown on most temperate planets for its sap's healing properties. However, once squeezed out, the essence could be modified and gave a drug which over stimulated the nervous system, sharpening the senses and enhancing strength. It explained the renowned swiftness of those Children and why they were tied to their Family as solicaine fostered a strong state dependence. He had heard how dreadful the withdrawal symptoms of that particular drug were. And if it wasn't for that, regular users were bound to die of exhaustation after a while.

He did not know what to think of this Nila Sohal but he was starting to understand how much joining the Order had really cost her.


	7. Dusk on the Temple's Terraces

The Temple's terraces were deserted.

Two hours left before his first confrontation with the Family…

He had been meditating for hours to keep himself centred. But tonight, the sight of the sun setting ablaze the myriad of angular surfaces of the city had not its usual soothing effect.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting on the floor, motionless, leaning against a bright white wall, his hands resting idly in his lap.

A stripe of coppery light crossed his face. The clear colour of his eyes stood out dimly as he absently watched a bunch of crazed insects flying in circle up in the distance. On the surface, he looked calm. He knew what he had to do, what he had to say. But his partner… What to think of her? She had been true to her word and done her best to prepare him for tonight's meeting, providing all kind of useful information and advice. Yet there was something in her he could not fathom, like this habit of disappearing at regular intervals without giving explanations… He would have to do something about it soon.

"How are you feeling?" someone suddenly asked.

The low timbre of the voice got through his haze and his eyes slowly went back into focus. Nila Sohal was standing by his side, wrapped in the folds of her dark cloak. She was nervous. He could feel the ripples of her anxiety through the Force no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. The dull clench in his stomach increased slightly.

"Ephemeral," he uttered, drawing the syllables pensively and noticed with a half smile her puzzled expression.

But she suddenly smiled back in a deeply knowing way and squatted down beside him. "Nice way to describe it," she said simply.

She was sitting with her back very straight against the wall. Her dark eyes had taken a warm reddish gold shade in the sun.

"It's strange how your voice seems to belong to someone else," Kenobi remarked out of the blue, wondering at the same time where the Force it came from. "Sorry, it's abs--"

Nila had then a small chuckle which cut him mid sentence. "No, no. It's true, I've been told before." She shrugged lightly."I often imagine it's because I have been shaped up by many different people. The Centre, the Mob, the Jedi. Some elements in me clash and some blend together well."

"Did you know your parents?" he suddenly asked after a pause.

She shook her head slowly, closing her eyes as they met one of the pools of liquid light reflected on the countless windows panes. The day was almost gone; the city was starting to lose its sharp edges as the shadow grew imperceptibly.

Nila found herself wanting to push away the thought of what would happen that night just for a few more minutes to somehow ward off ill-fortune. So she talked.

"I looked for them when I was a padawan. I couldn't bear not knowing. My efforts paid off and I eventually found a name. My mother's or so I thought but it didn't match any ID file of the Archives. It seemed like no one alive or dead had ever bore that name. It was just no use. So I deleted all my research."

Nila finally turned her head toward him and saw that he was musing too. She shifted closer until he felt her lightly pressed against his side. Surprised, he looked down at her but her attention was elsewhere on the scenery. How long had it been since someone had last touched him? He wondered idly.

Closing his eyes against the bright light and memories, he chose to sit still and for once, to simply accept the silent strength she offered.


	8. Audience with the Clan

Nila awkwardly adjusted the strap of her dress for the umpteenth time in the past five minutes. The first ordeal had been the stairs. Who knew that the Jedi Temple harboured such a dramatic amount of steps? It had taken a moment – a painful moment -- to figure out how to manage high heels combined with the extravagant length of that stupid gown with a semblance of dignity.

The actual opening ceremony of the Sofica's affiliate was scheduled later in the evening but the Family's Advisors had requested to meet Kenobi before in order to discuss the right to collect information on the Clan's territory.

The young woman morosely surveyed the façade behind which the party was to be launched. What a disappointment. To look at the soulless building standing like a wart in this cheap neighbourhood, it seemed that the Family's business had undergone a drastic spill. Where was the arrogant opulence of the Saarliaban bar where the Family used to receive?

Nila looked down at her own shabby attire and sighed. She _was_ underdressed. The outdated shape of her outfit hung pitifully on her body and it would not go unnoticed.

While the bodyguards checked them for weapons, Kenobi glanced at his partner as she fumbled again with her dress. It was at least one size too big and drowned her body in a sea of fabric. He could guess how humiliated she felt, facing the Clan again so little at her advantage. Yet it was better this way, she had insisted to come to back him up in case of serious problem but on the other hand, she could not afford to be noticed during the night. Santillian's death warrant for Nila was still effective. As they were free to go, he reached for her hand and pried it out of a rebellious fold.

"Stop it. You're nervous and it shows."

Curter than he had meant… He moved to pat her shoulder encouragingly but Nila mistook it for a sign to move forward and started to walk away. Kenobi's hand fell back at his side.

They stepped into the surprisingly luxurious hall of this restaurant which was really not much to look at from outside.

"Time to see which side Eru truly favours," he stated as they waited for one of the busy waiters the show them in.

Nila's confidence faltered when the possibility hit her. She had not questioned the mobster's sincerity when he had shown up after four years of separation since it had never been otherwise between them. Their strange friendship -- for lack of better word -- had started during her Padawan years. As far as she could remember, he had never failed her although they belonged to two opposite sides of the law.

And this animal had his share of interest in the bargain too. Nila was not fooled: as long as the Jedi would be on the Scroll trail, Eru knew they would not intrude in the Family's business, nor would the Republic…

He had thus no interest to betray them.

Not yet at least.

Nila tried to relax and found Kenobi considering her with a smart gleam in his eyes. She plastered a fake smile on her face that meant something suspiciously akin to 'bite me.' Her bad mood increased ten fold when she proceeded to unceremoniously trip over her garb.

Kenobi briefly closed his eyes.

"So, where is your arsenal this time?" he inquired conversationally, looking down at the front of her outfit. "I remember your habit of hiding weapons in the most unusual places."

"Oh," she said, catching the hint about the knife she had planted in his shoulder a few weeks before. "You don't want to know, believe me."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"What can I say? You diplomats lead a sheltered life," she said with a smirk.

"Remind me to tell you a few stories about my sheltered diplomatic life."

Nila smiled lightly. Obi-Wan Kenobi was unconditional about everything he did. One of the few things she appreciated about him. Proud and practical, there seemed to be no real shadow in him. Not yet. She watched him discreetly and wondered with a slight pang if the Lower City would taint him in some way… At that moment, she wished she could protect him from all that dirt.

Kenobi touched her arm to draw her attention. Somebody was finally coming toward them. His gaze shifted to her, checking her appearance once more. This place was most definitely designed to welcome a well off crowd of customers. Nila's dark hair had been mostly tamed and pulled back in a simple bun for the occasion, but some stubborn locks still fell haphazardly around her neck and in her eyes. He glanced pensively at her small hands with short broken nails which she immediately tried to hide in the folds of her skirt.

Well…

The young woman caught his look and reddened slightly. She threw her hands up irritably. "Copy that, Master. I pass. Good night."

She moved to turn around but Kenobi easily extended a hand and caught her elbow.

"No time to back down now."

Noticing a few clients detailing them curiously, the master took the liberty of pushing back a loose strand of her hair in what looked like a casual affectionate gesture. It immediately fell back in her face in subtle provocation.

"I didn't do it!" she exclaimed as he glared at her.

The waiter greeted them and announced that Eru Santillian was waiting for them.

"Remember what I told you at the Temple," Nila whispered as they started to follow. "No brash action, show respect. I wouldn't want your mutilated body to ruin my new dress."

He put a light hand on the small of her back to guide her across the restaurant. "Tactful as always …"

As they were left in an antechamber, Kenobi moved toward the window. Nila joined him and tilted her head towards a door at the opposite end of the room.

"They should come in any minute now."

The Jedi master noticed the mist her rapid breathing was creating against the cold glass screen.

Eru Santillian slowly approached the room where his guests were waiting. He paused on the threshold, catching a brief glimpse of the two Jedi impassively looking out the window before they both turned toward him in an identical, fluid movement.

For a mere second, he was struck by the way they mysteriously looked alike despite the radical differences of stature and physical appearance. The impression was so strong that, a little unsure, he called her.

"Asalwa?"

Kenobi was surprised to see the young woman react to the unfamiliar name.

"Greetings, Arda," she said, giving him the traditional title of 'Uncle' which referred to the Families' dignitaries.

Eru bowed his head in return. In a single sharp glance, he noted the Jedi Master's elegant appearance, the classic touch of his formal tunics and the sense of quiet power emanating from him. Nevertheless, his attention went mostly to his partner. The Knight standing there, wary of him as he was wary of her, had little in common with the young woman he used to know. Her dark hair though remained just as unruly as he remembered despite the visible effort to tame it. There were also the eyes wide and almost black but the mind which flickered behind them was that of a stranger. The cool headed chieftain could not suppress a brief twinge in his chest.

"The Family is expecting you, Master Kenobi," he finally said, indicating the door still opened behind him. He raised a hand to stop Nila. "You know the rule, Asalwa. No woman is allowed to attend the Advisors' meetings."

Eru Santillian motioned to a massive man standing on the threshold to escort her out of the room. "Amos here will be happy to lead you to the bar with the other ladies."

"Eru," she protested. "That wasn't what—"

"Please," he interrupted her politely. "Upsetting the Advisors would not be a clever move."

Nila glanced at Kenobi who nodded discreetly before walking through the door. Eru addressed a slight smile and mouthed "don't worry" to the young woman who frowned. However, she knew better than to object and walked out, the henchman in tow.

Nila was introduced to a circle of women, all pampered Family mistresses or wives, of every age and distinction. They interrupted their conversation to take a look at Amos and the girl accompanying him. Nila felt inquisitive and slightly disdainful eyes scrutinize her from head to toe detailing her hands, her hair, her too simple gown.

_'What's worse than one woman?'_ Nila mused with an inward sigh. '_A dozen of them put together.'_

She noticed then a rather young woman staring at her from the other side of the table. She did not seem to care overmuch about fashion details and her remarkable pale green eyes were impenetrable.

"I knew you would come," she suddenly said, breaking the silence. "My name is Sabaya. Eru Santillian is my husband."

The emphasis she put in the last part of the sentence was not lost on Nila; the Jedi knight met the green gaze squarely and a tacit understanding passed between them – something faintly hostile and mostly determined.

Amos pulled out a chair for the Jedi and she sat at the table with a meek smile. The women set about asking a few questions to her out of common courtesy but fortunately got tired of it as soon as Sabaya had to excuse herself to go give some orders in the kitchen.

Although Mikan Santillian, his right-hand-man Winsott or any person who would have been likely to recognize her were nowhere to be seen so far, Nila disliked the idea of sitting idly at a table in full view of the whole restaurant.

An hour passed.

And another.

Nila was reduced to count the accumulation of empty glasses on the table and to discreetly dart her eyes toward the closed door behind which the Family was debating. The wait was driving her insane. The Jedi risked a probe through the Force only to feel a relentless resistance. This idiot was blocking her out!

The minutes ticked by and she felt herself becoming inwardly livid. What could take them so long? It was just a first meeting to see if the man would have the guts to carry the business with them to the end. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut, addressing a silent prayer to whoever was listening that Kenobi had not done anything to make them want to push the "guts" examination in a more literal way. The woman who was sitting at her right and had kept quiet most of the evening suddenly spoke up.

"Curious, I'd never pictured the Advisors as such chatters before," she pondered aloud, instantly fuelling Nila's anxiety before adding with a drunken smile: "My guess is that your friend is already on his way to be buried in a duracrete pylon."

They all cackled. Nila quirked up an eyebrow. Mob people had money. They could definitely afford sluts with a better sense of humour.

"Duracrete pylons? Be serious. It's hardly discreet and it takes hours -- you only see that in movies," Nila heard herself blurter out learnedly. "In reality, they slit the carotid with a vibroblade and dump the body in an energy field before the blood soaks everything. A beautiful invention the energy field, dissolves about everything in a matter of seconds. No corpse, no proof!" she said cheerily, beaming at the dumbfounded circle.

"But there are several variants of course," she admitted humbly, taking a sip of her drink.

_'Me and my big mouth…' _

She leaned back against the couch, apparently relaxed but inside worry and anger intertwined with other emotions she did not identify. That fool had better have a convincing explanation. Who the hell did he think he was, going on his own in a totally unfamiliar environment shutting her off?

Those Jedi and their smug certitude that they were bound to save the day!

Around her, the women had started to babble again albeit a tad less enthusiastically. They were not waiting.

Yes, happy the witless indeed.

The door opened and she felt as if all her blood had rushed down to her legs. Before she had time to formulate the thought she was already on her feet, anxious, hoping.

He walked out. Still in one piece, thank the Force. The Advisors clapped his back in a friendly manner and the confident smile plastered on his face deepened as soon as he spotted her.

Nila smiled tentatively back to him. He looked very handsome.

And pale. Oh, Force was he pale…

Nila lowered her eyes. There was blood on his hands.


	9. Bad Dream

Nila impulsively took a step toward her partner but was stopped by the movement of the Family closing around him, bestowing lavish praise on him in the traditional raucous way. She remained at a distance with the women, impatiently waiting for her turn.

The delay gave her the opportunity to notice with some alarm that he looked oddly absent and had hands constantly clasped behind his back.

After a moment, the guests started to move toward a wide double staircase leading to the reception chambers and he was left alone. Nila rushed at his side and ushered him discreetly in a corner. Noticing the furtive glances she shot at his hands, he shook his head.

"It's not mine."

She grabbed a napkin on a nearby table and handed it to him. "What happened?" she murmured worriedly. "What did they do to you?"

The Master kept his eyes fastened to the now sullied fabric. "A test…"

"Oh," Nila said slowly. "The knife fight, wasn't it?"

"I held back. But they… I eventually had to kill him."

His face was composed, but she knew. A light sabre delivered a quick, clean death. There was no blood, no contact and no direct emotional implication. But with a knife…

She could guess what was going on in his mind -- she could almost see it in the slight lack of focus of his gaze.

"Who was it?" she asked gently.

"He was a Gotal. I don't even know his name," he replied bitterly as he pushed his sleeve up to examine a slash shaped like a crescent moon on his right arm.

That explained why he had shielded his mind, she thought. The Gotals were humanoids with extraordinary enhanced senses. Kenobi's victory must have impressed the Family.

"It was Cir'b," she realized then. She blinked once or twice and mechanically took the napkin from him to press it against the wound. "He was teaching the Children to fight. He was a good guy."

He watched her avoiding eye contact as she fumbled with the cloth, uselessly dabbing his wound that had already stopped bleeding.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She shrugged off his words with annoyance. "You passed the test, that's all that matters."

He set his clear, grave eyes on her. "I was afraid you would say something like this."

Nila wordlessly handed him back the cloth and immediately re-established the distance between them.

"This is strange," she remarked, watching him as he pulled his sleeve back into place. "Even after a fight like this there's not the slightest trace of perspiration on you. You have some control over your body."

"I was rather chilled in fact," he answered evasively.

Nila straightened up. "Were you?"

"How was your evening with the ladies?" His tone was light again as he changed the subject of their conversation and Nila gratefully followed suit.

"Exceedingly forgettable. The Corellian ale was warm but the key figures of the City's Big Three are all around us."

The Jedi offered her his arm. "I'm all ears."

As they headed for the stairs, she indicated a broad shouldered young man standing near them.

"That one is Svenn Ezol. He is part of the new hot-headed generation of Mob leaders and replaced old Nasrin'Lya who was killed by the RAID two years ago. He's a brute but he has good advisors. His clan is smaller and more secretive than the Santillian organization. They are mostly involved in common vice. I don't think he knows anything about what brought us here."

She cast a circular glance and went on.

"The one behind us at the bar is Abenok Santillian, Eru's older cousin. He's ruling an important part of the Family's 'legal' business. Very clever, fine business man… womanizer…" Abenok had just leaned in to talk unnecessarily close to the young lady at his side.

"Not to be trusted of course. The Santillian Family have always believed in the old Mob traditions as long as it does not interfere with practicality. Most of the customs have gone in favour of a more corporate, streamlined organization under the lead of Eru. But Abenok's er… 'policy' remains very fair with the little guys working in the streets which makes their chieftains very popular."

"Would that play against us?"

Nila shrugged. "There will be no dissention to exploit if the negotiation fails. Not at this level of the hierarchy. But the Ardas… There's always been too many of them in Santillian's clan."

"What about the last member of the Big Three union?"

"Taev's association is into high tech' crime. It smuggles and distributes illegal weapons and cybernetics which makes their clan more closely linked to corporation."

"His personality?"

"Well," she sighed. "Taev is the perfect image of the patrician leader -- he could be mistaken for a high level corporate. He keeps to his business and hardly ever mingles with the other Families especially with the RAID growing so nosy and the new Anti Crime legislations."

They were half way up the stairs when Nila's speech faltered. She had just felt a flicker in the Force. An unfamiliar yet powerful signature alerted all her senses.

She turned toward her partner.

"I felt it too," he whispered, answering her silent question. "It came from there."

He eyed a passage in the wall, half concealed by large bunches of flowers. "Maybe you should go have a look while I meet the clan upstairs. I'll join you when I'm done."

She was about to agree when she spotted Eru walking down the steps briskly to meet them.

"Master Obi-Wan! My father is here," he announced emphatically with a broad smile for the benefit of everybody around. "He wishes to see you."

Nila felt a cold sweat run down her back. That totally thwarted their plan and put her in an extremely delicate situation. She had to leave as quickly as possible and let go of her partner's right arm just as Eru seized his left one with apparent familiarity. The Master looked at her meaningfully and let Eru usher him toward the party.

The presence they had felt earlier seemed to have vanished. She forced her way through the crowd toward the hidden passage but a strong hand closed around her wrist.

Abenok Santillian bent his tall frame and smiled to her. "Methinks you are going the wrong way, my dear."

He turned away from her to whisper something to one of the passing waiters and caught her elbow in a smooth but firm gesture to guide her back toward the festivities.

"I was on my way out, Arda," she resisted. "Your uncle doesn't wish to see me in his house."

The mobster shrugged fatalistically. "If I remember well, you tried to shoot him down four years ago despite all he had done for you."

Nila's eyes immediately hardened. "You set us up. That mission had nothing to do with the Clan but your men slaughtered the Unit."

"My uncle loathed the situation had to come to such extremes, particularly when it concerned such a great man as your master. Despite our sometimes conflicting interests, we had a great respect for him," he said. "And we all mourned him."

Nila felt her stomach lurch in disgust. The worst was that he was probably sincere…

"You are the poison of this city!" she hissed.

"Come now my lady, you seem a little on edge," he said, glancing meaningfully at the people around them. "Have you never been in a formal reception before?"

"Not quite as a guest, Arda," she answered with a fake smile. "If you remember, I've been busy being a social outcast for tracking the Mob circles during the past few decades."

The slick man raised his eyebrows and laughed.

"I wonder, young Asalwa… why do you take the risk of coming back to your Family after all those years? What does the Jedi have to do with the Scroll legend?"

"You'd better keep to your business, Arda, and I'll keep to mine," was her firm piece of advice.

"My dear," he retorted with an easy smile. "You are in no position to threaten."

Nila did not miss the underlying statement that he, on the other hand, was.

"Here we are," he said as they reached the top of the stairs. He showed her discreetly an entrance beside the party chamber. "Through that door are the service stairs. It will lead you directly to the backstreet. I'll have Master Kenobi join you there afterwards."

"How do I know that some people are not waiting for me downstairs?"

He chuckled humourlessly. "Somebody is waiting for you. How could I leave a young woman alone in such a poorly lit neighbourhood at this hour? That would cause my cousin great displeasure and I would never be the one to create a rift in the Family."

"Diplomat?" she asked tartly.

"Prudent."

Abenok took the shawl he had manifestly requested from a waiter. He unfolded the precious woollen fabric and draped it around Nila's shoulders.

"Thank you, Arda," she said, almost indifferent.

"_Arda_?" Santillian shook his head. "You pretend to be familiar with our world. Have you no remorse for what you've done to your Clan? Are Jedi actually capable of emotions?"

"I'm here for business. Nothing else," she answered flatly.

With that, Nila gathered her skirt and took her leave. When she was out of sight, the confident mask fell and a hot blush set her cheeks ablaze. This night had all but turned into a complete disaster. First Kenobi's awful experience confronting the Families' Advisors and now Abenok's barely veiled warnings… And still nothing about the Scroll.

She slowed down when she reached the first landing.

They had called her Asalwa too. No one had called her that way in years... Why did she agree to go through this all over again?

Leaning heavily on the banister, Nila looked around her. In front of her was the way down to the exit but behind, the stairs went three floors up. The Jedi momentarily forgot her doubts to consider her options. A part of the Family's offices was certainly situated above the reception room. A lot of documents and data had to be kept in there… She had very limited confidence in the information the Santillians would choose to reveal to them. The security was concentrated in the reception room and outside the building -- it might give her a chance to break in.

The Jedi hurriedly retraced her steps, careful not to come across any waiters, slipped past the floor where the party was thrown. Blending in the darkness of the stairway, she climbed up until she detected presences.

Third floor, two guards.

Nila took a breath as she reached the landing. The men immediately shook their heads and walked toward her to make her go back down but they froze as she made a slight motion with her hand, their eyes strangely void and dull. Nila turned to the security system of the entrance and whistled softly.

No wonder the Clan had only let two guards here, the intricate combinations of numbers and letters activating the gate was enough to discourage many. She indulged in the pleasure of a new challenge. After years at the Temple, she still had not managed to get rid of that particular quirk -- she just loved picking locks. There was only one go with that type of system and she could not keep the guards in their trance for long. A sudden smile flickered on her face, half sly half sad and she typed a series of numbers. The entrance beeped feebly and slid open. She shook her head, Eru would never change…

Once inside, the young woman oriented herself quickly and headed toward the main processor without taking the risk of switching on the lights. Ironically enough, all she had learned as one of the Children allowed her to hack their own system with minimum difficulty.

She scanned through their files, watched the succession of figures, names and various transactions on the screen pausing for none. You'd think they had expected her and erased everything before.

Although it was unlikely the Mob had the Scroll, Nila could not believe they had no part with it. Morally speaking, Thranton was just as bad as the gangsters he tracked down but the RAID was extremely efficient. If they had localized the Holocron in one of the Families' sector, there had to be a trace somewhere…

A name on the last file having little to do with her mission made her do a double take.

Farah Panasana.

Nila stared at the screen, petrified. That name had nothing to do with the Clan, yet… Her hand fished blindly in the folds of her outfit and she extracted a disk. She vaguely recognized the holo she had taken from Kenobi, slipped it in the processor and downloaded the data. Her head suddenly whipped toward the door. Somebody was drawing near. She watched the screen nervously, checking the progress of the recording.

"Hurry, hurry,' she whispered.

The person was now activating the door's lock.

"Come _on_!" she urged between clenched teeth.

As the entrance started to slide open, Nila hit a key and plunged in the recess behind the desk just as the light went on in the room.

That was close… two persons entered the office, talking animatedly.

"You don't seem to understand. My employer needs guaranties, Your Excellence," protested a feminine voice.

Nila recognised the strong aura she had sensed earlier invaded the room as he – for it was a man – stepped inside.

"I gave him my word that he would have what he wants once I obtain complete satisfaction."

The man's voice was very low and his cultured inflexions were studied. He was certainly a public figure like a politician…Force knew how many of them were linked to the Underworld. She also piqued up a faint jar in the quality of his voice indicating an older man probably well over sixty.

"You also said that you would give us a proof. My boss will do anything you ask to get that scroll, provided you actually have it."

Nila had a bitter smile. She should have known that Eru might try to double-cross them. Tendrils of the Force suddenly brushed her mind inquisitively. Startled, she instinctively slammed her mental shield up. This man was not only Force sensitive, she thought bewildered, he knew how to manipulate it! As her mind shielded, the almost familiar chill closed around her, numbing her sensations.

"Where will it be kept?" he asked, carrying the conversation as if nothing had happened, but she was fairly sure he knew she was there.

"In this very room," she said. "Let me show you."

Nila was now feeling as though she was walking in a dream, oddly detached yet intent on what was happening. A sudden tension coursed through her and urged her to risk a step forward to have a better view. She could now see the back of the woman who seemed to be about her age. Her body language conveyed a sense of boldness, aware of its seduction and sure of its power. The man also had his back turned to her, his sleek white-haired head towered over the young woman.

The Jedi frowned then -- there was something standing by the stranger. It looked like a dull silver blue shape, but it was hardly visible having had no real substance. Nila briefly had the absurd notion it was trying to point something out to her but she could not get the message straight.

Shaking her head, Nila's eyes returned to the woman who was activating a mechanism, which revealed a keyboard inserted in the wall at the far end of the office. She typed something.

Nila took another step forward, without really thinking. The woman turned her head and their eyes met.

Beryl.

Her squad mate and friend all those years ago… She was alive and she was still working for them.

Panic seized Nila as she saw the young woman turn around slowly to face her, while the white haired stranger at her side remained abnormally still. Beryl's face was half hidden by a shadow but the lower part of her face was distorted by a horrible scowl. Frozen on the spot, Nila reflexively shut her eyes tightly, cutting herself from the grotesque vision.

When she opened them again, she found she was still hidden in the recess, well out of view. A prudent look out showed her that the man and the woman were still talking. Had anything she had just seen really happened?

She rubbed her temples nervously, not knowing what to think.

The woman stepped toward the wall as Nila had seen her do earlier and activated a mechanism. It looked as if the earlier scene was happening again. But this time and to the young woman's immense relief, the woman did not look over her shoulder.

"State your name," said an electronic voice.

"Beryl Tachcklan."

Nila expected this answer yet she could not prevent a cold sweat from trickling down her back: what she had witnessed had nothing to do with a usual manifestation of the Force.

A part of the wall opened with a hiss, revealing a secret chamber. The Jedi waited until they stepped inside to rush toward the computer to snatch her disk and stumble out of the office, numbing the guards' minds again to cover her escape.

She hurtled down the stairs as fast as her trembling legs allowed her and stopped at the street level. Two men waited outside as Abenok had said, one of them was pacing in front of the entrance while the other stood nearby. She backed up behind the door and waited for them to come a little closer. Nila mentally counted to three, shot her arm out, grabbed one henchman by the lapel of his outfit and pulled him violently against the heavy door.

The second fellow dashed toward Nila, who reached out a hand in his direction and shoved him against a wall with the Force. He tumbled out of view in a heap of junk. The Jedi ran to drag away the unconscious men and tied them as she could with cables from the junk pile.

Then she squatted down in the shadow of the street, pulling her legs tightly against her chest as the wind grew colder and watched the door, waiting for her partner.

Ten minutes passed. The street was deserted.

Finally, the backdoor opened. Nila started to get up but a feminine figure appeared instead of Kenobi. It was Beryl and she was alone.

Nila watched her make her way toward the turbo lifts leading toward the landing pads. It was too easy. Her escape and now Beryl getting out unaccompanied… Was she expected? And Kenobi? Should she wait for him?

She looked back and forth between the retreating shape and the door which remained closed. Taking her decision, she noiselessly rose from her hiding place and headed toward the lifts.

Beryl Tachklan liked the continual agitation of the City. It had always reassured her. It made her feel connected to the inner heartbeat of Coruscant even in the dead hours of the night, which would always find her awake, sometimes alone, sometimes not. She closed her eyes; she had lost the count… her eyelids tightened as if to banish the thought. Oh, to sleep…

But there were too many things to think about, too many shadows to mistrust, too many faces to forget.

Tonight would be no exception.

Beryl sat up straight on the back seat of an air taxi, watching distractedly copper light pooling the Lower City like an immense fire raging deep down. She tried to focus on the advertisements but the neon and multicoloured holograms were giving her a headache.

The negotiations had been tough tonight. Beryl had discerned a superior mind in this stranger. A former Jedi she had heard… yes, a sense of danger emanated from him and she could not figure out why her Arda insisted on doing business with him.

She tilted her head backward and let wind play in her hair without worrying about the tangles for once.

Too many things to think about, too many …

A few minutes later, Beryl was keying in the opening code of her flat and reached for the lights.

All the sudden, she was pushed inside. She stumbled forward and before she could gasp or turn around the door was already closed and locked. She could not see a thing but felt a movement in her direction. Beryl drew a large intake of air to scream but a hand clamped over her mouth. A pitiful gurgle escaped her throat as she tried to thrash against the restraining grip.

"Stop it!" growled a voice behind her. "I only want to speak with you."

Too surprised to resist, Beryl stilled and nodded -- despite its low and slightly husky timbre, the voice was definitely feminine. And faintly familiar.

The light flickered on and Beryl turned to face a woman in a black gown.

"Hello, Beryl," she said simply.

"Took you quite a while to find you way back here," Beryl said after a moment. "Asalwa."


	10. The Runes of Enisorai

Quick note: the word 'Hanoch' is pronouced _ha-noc_

* * *

A sharp sensation dragged Nila back to consciousness. It seemed to her that she had only closed her eyes a minute before. She discovered that she was lying on a spartan mattress in a room of humble dimension. Daylight was seeping through the drawn shades and her sleep-misted eyes absently fixed the shadows slipping slowly on the white ceiling.

_I should have waited for him…_

It was almost morning.

How did she end up there first place?

She shook her head to clear her mind and let her eyes wander on the no-nonsense furniture so typical of the Temple. Yes, she had gone home after meeting Beryl. Her hands went to her eyes to rub weariness and unpleasant memories away. She did not want to remember what had been said or done. Old wounds, ugly scars…resent and hatred…Nila's eyes opened wide.

When she had not found him at the Saarliaban, she had returned directly to Kenobi's quarters, not wanting to be alone. But she had only found his apprentice. The young man had not seen his Master since the night before. She had fallen asleep in his room waiting for him.

She tensed up as she felt something sharp against her stomach.

She gripped the comforter and abruptly pulled it aside.

Nila glanced down to find a tiny felinoid fast asleep on her stomach, absently pawing her now and then. That little rascal had taken advantage of her bunched up dress, and was now lounging against the warm skin.

Nila exhaled.

Just a kitten.

She chuckled and big tawny eyes opened in the middle of the ball of grey fur. Seeing it was observed, the diminutive nuisance immediately started to show off, rolling on its small back, fussing around, hoping to get some petting. Things were going in motion that cannot be undone

But the young woman was not looking anymore. She could sense the Master's absence in the flat. His communicator sat, useless, on the bed stand: they were forbidden at the party last night. All Nila could do was hoping he was well and wait.

A sigh of frustration escaped her. She knew that going back after him alone might only cause more harm and compromise their plans but...

Not getting her full attention, the kitten let out a raspy meow. Nila ran a finger on the distended furry belly and was graced with an ecstatic purr.

She looked out the window. If he was not there by the time the sun was up she--

A low voice suddenly erupted from the doorway.

"Nila!"

Nila nearly jumped out of her skin, sending the kitten rolling head over paws to the floor where it crashed with light thud. A loud indignant meow rose from the side of the cot. Both felinoid and Jedi Knight turned to glare at Kenobi who was standing on the threshold.

"I suppose you have a good excuse."

He was as drenched as she had been the previous night and dark circles rimmed his eyes. His face was stern but with his arms hanging loosely at his sides, he looked totally at a loss. Nila fumbled with the bed cloth, taking a quick look at her partner who stared at her now with an almost comical expression of disbelief. The silence had grown so thick that Nila felt the urge to fill it.

"Well, I guess don't have time to make up a plausible one now…" was all that crossed her mind.

Punching him in the guts would not have produced more effect, she thought as she watched his eyes widen and then narrow dangerously, making her inwardly brace up for the serious telling off bout she knew was coming.

And she was not disappointed.

"Where the blast have you been, Sohal?! Could you tell me what you were thinking running away like that without telling me, at that hour, in that neighbourhood, right in the middle of the Mafia's territory?!"

His voice swelled with every passing second, becoming loud enough to make her feel how genuinely pissed off he was. For the first time in a long while, Nila did not dare to talk back. After all, he had spent the whole night looking for her because she had not bothered to warn him of her whereabouts.

When she thought that he would go for the kill, he stopped, tore his gaze from her and drew a deep breath.

"My apprentice prepared a meal," he announced formally. "Would you please, ah – make yourself decent and join us?"

That was not an invitation.

She frowned as he closed the door behind him and looked down to her outfit to see that it was still bunched up right under her breasts exposing quite plainly her bare stomach down to the oh-so-appealing issued Jedi knickers.

"Aw, that's perfect," she groaned, flopping back against the pillow.

Nila hurriedly stumbled out of bed, tried to locate her shoes and caught the bedside table corner with her hip in the process. She hissed in pain, unable to prevent the top drawer from crashing down and spread a large stack of papers on the floor.

Standing in the middle of the mess, Nila suddenly doubted this day would turn into something more or less liveable… she sullenly extended a hand to catch a plummeting paper when a thought struck her.

For the first time, Kenobi was angry with her because she had been imprudent, not because he doubted her… A light smile was gracing her features as she mechanically looked down at the paper she held.

Her eyebrows shot up…it was the portrait of a young woman with the painter's name at the bottom --Alzo. She was smiling absently, revealing a dimple on her right cheek and her eyes looking out for something. She seemed slightly familiar, her eyes maybe… Nila had imagined a lot of things about her partner but this…

Nila suddenly felt an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of her stomach. She should not have looked, it was not her business.

A soft knock on the door made her hurriedly collect the scattered documents to stuff them back into the drawer. She sat down on the bed just before Anakin entered casually, a set of tunics on his arms and a piece of toast sticking out of his mouth.

He took it off to greet her amiably. "Pardon the unwanted bed mate, Knight Sohal," he said, picking up the kitten which was attacking the ascension of the tossed covers to resume its former position on Nila.

The Padawan held it in front of her face, as it vehemently protested and reached out for her with its tiny paws. "Knight Sohal meet Zaar," Anakin introduced formally. "He's always anxious to claim first anything new in this house."

"I'd never picture your master as a pet man."

"Believe me he isn't. Had to more or less smuggle Zaar in, you see. I brought an old set of tunics for you. They're clean," he hastily added. She chuckled and nodded her thanks.

"I think you acted the right way last night, if you allow me to say so," he said conversationally. "In fact I believe I've done the same several times already." He paused to offer her a prudent if unconvincing sheepish smile. "But that's beyond Master Kenobi. He only believes in calculated risk."

"And he is right," she replied seriously. "I endangered both our lives. It was stupid and reckless of me."

"But the mission is always a priority! My Master said you often fail to see the accuracy of keeping strictly to the Code." He paused, pondering how his words might be interpreted. "But life out there isn't strictly about the Code… Is it?"

Feeling the sting of Kenobi's unflattering remark, Nila was tempted for a second to tell his padawan what 'life out there' had taught her but refrained. "Being a Jedi implies duties, Anakin," she tempered. "In this case my priority should have been my partner."

Her words rang absurd and hypocritical to her own ears. Given her past feasts, she was ill placed to lecture anyone.

"But the Council must hold you in esteem," he pressed on, seeing he was getting answers. "They took many precautions to protect you from the Mob after the Unit was dismissed."

Nila could have almost laughed. The Council had placed her somewhere they could keep an eye on her was closer to the truth and the way they regarded her could be labelled as about anything but 'esteem'.

"What is the pillar value of the Order, Padawan?"

The answer was immediate "Discipline."

She smiled thinly as she saw him falter and understand.

"They don't esteem me much either, you know…" he suddenly said, his eyes lost in emptiness. "I know my skills surpass most Jedi yet they never did."

Unwilling to go there, she stood, ending the conversation. "I'm going to get dressed now."

"Don't mind them."

Nila looked up to find Anakin observing her, his features strangely still. She noticed then the odd tension that had filled the room as she peered at his no longer young face.

She froze, her hands going instinctively to her temples. Were those visions happening again?

"Anakin?" she called him, a little unnerved.

"Sorry, I get too serious sometimes. My master rubs in on me." He smiled boyishly and she relaxed a bit. "I meant that most of the time when this kind of things happens, the Council and my Master are grumpy for a while but it never lasts."

Nila nodded absently.

He tilted his head. "He's not as detached as he seems to be, you know."

Anakin left the room with Zaar sprawled unstably across his shoulder.

Nila shared her breakfast with a passably standoffish Obi-Wan Kenobi. Since Anakin had left to attend his morning class, nothing had disturbed the stony silence in the flat. Sitting on the very edge of her chair, she found herself trying to make as little noise as possible as she helped herself with hot jawa juice. Nila abruptly put down her cup. It was stupid. They had a mission and their disagreement should not interfere. She cleared her throat and started to expose how she had met Beryl Tachklan, carefully putting aside the vision episode.

"She told me she didn't know the name of the man who's supposedly in possession of the Scroll. Only Abenok does and after a rather great deal of difficulties, she finally accepted to arrange a private meeting with him. They'll say when, we'll say where."

She stopped talking, he nodded and they resumed their meal without another word. Nila sighed audibly. She could handle anger, open hostility but his unspoken disappointment was… unnerving. Force, couldn't he make an effort? She bit the inside of her cheeks and mumbled:

"Sorry. It will not happen again."

Kenobi did not look up from his plate. "No it won't."

Nila wordlessly stabbed a piece of fruit with her fork.

"I heard Eru call you Asalwa?" he asked after a moment.

"It's the name I used then," she answered politely. "They had us choosing one to cut every link with our previous life."

"Why this one?"

Nila put down her fork with exaggerate care. "Surely because of Asalwa is the most impressive image of power this galaxy has ever known."

And indeed, the legendary Asalwa, first queen of Ossus where the Order had been founded, was one of the most revered figures of the Core World Mythology.

"So young and already the control freak?" he said straight faced.

She blinked then cocked a derisive eyebrow. "Are you really willing to have me talking on this particular topic, Master Kenobi?"

He grimaced. "Absolutely not."

Nila sat back in her chair, a bit puzzled. One minute he was biting her head off, the next he barely addressed her and now he was… Force forbids, _teasing her_?

"Power then…you're right the myth does her credit. Even more so, knowing there's no reference of a king reigning by her side and that Ossus flourished in an exceedingly well organized manner," he stated, unconvincingly detached.

Nila could not believe the childish turn that the conversation threatened to take. She shrugged in an expression of superior intellect and looked out the window. _Of course,_ she would keep her mouth shut and not meet the not too subtle dare in his voice.

"There was. One for each night actually," she suddenly blurted out. "Ruling isn't the only use a queen can have for a man, you know."

His smirk deepened and her cheeks reddened.

"Give me a break, Kenobi, I was six when I chose the name!" she ranted.

"Interesting criteria for a six-year-old," he commented.

She hid a smile in her cup of juice realizing that in his own manner, he had quite effectively broken the ice. Even though he was obviously partial for having her feel like an uncultured lout…There was some progress. She guessed.

"Well, I certainly knew a lot more about life at six than you did," she shot back.

He sobered up and busied himself in meticulously slicing the fruit in his plate.

"Did they… abuse you in some way? I mean beside the use of solicaine," he asked cautiously, knowing Nila disliked questions.

"Honestly, I wouldn't say we were really mistreated."

He looked at her perplexedly.

"It was just like that," she said, deciding for some reason to explain. "We were brought up with the idea that they were our kin. A chieftain is totally devoted to his clan but most people, including very well informed men like Thranton, fail to see the persons behind the institution."

She smiled grimly, unable to resist an occasion to provoke him: "Then again, we were too stoned to tell the difference."

"This is not a laughing matter, Nila," he said, looking somewhat pained.

Nila mistook the unusual use of her first name for pity and immediately bristled. "Listen, I can't spend my whole life moping about the past, can I? Stop feeling sorry for me, Kenobi."

"I don't. It ended up well for you, you're safe."

"Oh yes, I'm safe!" Nila realised she had shouted. She squared her shoulders and smirked humourlessly. "Since my Master's death I've been locked in as though I were an object of public shame! It's a useless life, Master."

Kenobi did not answer immediately. He put down his silvers and sat back in his chair, observing the woman in front him intently.

"The knight who died on Naboo ten years ago was my master, you know," he said then. "I was there too. There was nothing I could possibly do and yet…" he made a vague gesture with his hand.

Nila tensed up angrily. The old 'look how much we have in common' trick…

Yet, as he held her gaze and she found nothing there to fuel her anger. His eyes were deep and warm and a bit sad too. She hesitated and leaned closer to him to say something but he shook his head. "I know," he simply said. He smiled encouragingly and she nodded in silent understanding.

Then, he saw her move her hand toward his right arm, turning it so his palm was upward. On what seemed to be an impulse, she pushed his sleeve up and bared the skin where the crescent shaped wound was healing.

Her eyebrows arched as she gently traced the cut on the tender skin inside his arm. Kenobi did not move, allowing the contact. It was a pleasant feeling full of… sense actually. He shook his head slightly as if to clear his mind.

"What are you doing Nila?" His voice sounded a bit hoarse to his ears.

"This is strange…" he heard her whisper. "I've already seen that mark on your arm. Long before Cir'b dealt it to you."

"What are you doing, Nila?" he repeated quietly.

Her fingertips suspended their light caress and realizing the impropriety of her gesture, she hastily leaned away from him.

"Do you remember when I dropped the holobook that night in the Archives? The Holocron projected the same mark on your arm and on my chest," she said, pointing his scar. The master nodded, a bit unsure, he did not particularly recalled this detail.

"Asalwa, of course!" Nila exclaimed suddenly, almost knocking her cup of cold juice over. "It's all in **_The Enisoreid_** myth! The general of her army bore exactly the same mark," she said with a slightly embarrassed smile. "Could it be a clue?"

Obi-Wan frowned. **_The Enisoreid_** was the fundamental text of the Core World Mythology. The twenty tome long epic retraced the Great Sith War that destroyed the world of Ossus, a millennium ago. The Ancients referred to this event as the Great Cataclysm for the Seventh Scroll had been lost then. However, this part of the civilization was so old that most of the key players had been turned into legendary warriors, part gods, part heroes, having little in common with the mortals they had once been. How could a serious trail come from a myth?

Nonetheless, he started to list aloud what he knew on the matter. "Let's see. Asalwa founded Ossus'capital -- the City of Almorch and commanded the powerful Army of the East. All is in the seventh tome, in the Fragments of the Queen's Archives."

This earned him a faintly disbelieving glance from Nila who like everybody in this Galaxy knew the myth by heart, without bothering to pore over the long-winded verses. Everybody but Obi Wan Kenobi …

"The holo you dropped was an excerpt of Queen Asalwa's Archives too. Perhaps you're right, this might be a clue."

Kenobi trailed off and turned toward her. "Do you still have the disk I was consulting the night you found me in the Archives?"

Nila went to retrieve it from her rumpled dress draped over a chair and handed it to the Master who immediately scanned through the different files. "I remember scanning some ancient manuscripts randomly so no one would see that I was working on mobsters' biographies," he explained before frowning faintly as an unknown document popped open on the screen of the reading unit. "This is not mine. Who's Farah Panasana?"

Nila felt herself blushing and hastily pointed to another file called _The Runes of Enisorai_. "What's this?"

She leaned over his shoulder and peered at the screen as the text appeared. It was an excerpt from the **_Proslogîon_**, the ancient, official exegesis of the myth.

"Look here," she said, pointing at a passage. "It says that when the Scroll was lost, the Elders consulted the Runes of Enisorai to unveil the future and discover if balance would ever be restored. Those runes gave their name to the epic."

He rose from the chair so she could sit and squatted down at her side. "Apparently they were quite unusual – the engraved symbol did not only represent elements but also 'figures' and 'archetypes' inspired by legendary characters and their distinctive traits, like in a tarot. The Elders drew three runes, one of each kind: an archetype, an element and a figure. They discovered that those three symbols would play a capital role in the finding of the Lost Scroll, possibly ages later."

Kenobi nodded. "The Ancients thought the world evolved in consecutive eras. A change of era corresponds to an uncertain period where Ashla and Bogan, right and wrong, fight to overrule the other. Only the Scroll can restore balance."

"So we're reaching the end of an age…" said Nila pensively.

"Yes. According to the calendar they used then, the Third Age is about to begin," he confirmed.

"Oh Force…" she murmured her eyes fastened to the screen.

"What?" he inquired, looking alternatively at his partner and the text.

"Asalwa is the figure. She embodies power and justice…" Nila replied, reading the document. She suddenly faltered a moment. "She commands men of honour in the East. Her rune symbolizes an ungraspable force concealing many secrets and mysteries.

"The second rune they drew was Delemissei. He's the archetype of the Protector. He was the general of Asalwa's Army and swore to keep the Queen safe. The text reads that the sign of his allegiance to her was marked into his flesh so he would never forget and could make himself known when time would come. Obi-Wan, he's the soldier who has the crescent mark on his forearm!" she exclaimed.

"How do you know it was a crescent?" Kenobi asked as he glanced at his scarred arm.

"When the Queen's Army defeated the Kaargans -- the people who occupied Ossus first – she adopted the moon as her emblem. Not a full one but a crescent as a tribute to the soldiers who fell during this war."

The two Jedi stared at the screen, Nila looking quite confused while the Jedi Master made a doubtful noise in the back of his throat. "What about the third rune?"

"It is the element and goes by the name of Hanoch. It is an ambiguous force bringing both annihilation and hope. As soon as the Three gather, the prophecy will start to unravel. From that reunion chaos or balance can stem… That's all," said Nila bemusedly as she reached the bottom of the manuscript. "If I weren't the rationalist that I am, I would say we are strangely alike the first two runes."

"Spectacular deduction…" Kenobi answered.

She rolled her eyes. "Look." Her hand went to her collar and partially untied her outer tunic. She pulled the rough fabric to uncover a part of her upper chest just below her breastbone.

Kenobi was clearly not expecting this and Nila could have sworn the tips of his ears had turned a darker shade. Then his eyes fell on a small mark lighter than the skin around and distinctly shaped as a crescent moon.

"It's an old scar. I've had it as far as I can remember," she stated as she readjusted her tunic.

Kenobi quickly averted his eyes and stood up briskly.

"I guess we'll have to go to the Achieves to learn more," he said.

"We've spent the last two weeks there," she objected with a heavy sigh. "We went through every available holo on that topic."

"Not the _Jedi _Archives."

"What do you mean? There's none as complete."

"None? Make an effort, Sohal."

"I'm quite cert—Oh…" Her eyebrows rose worriedly. "The… the _Families_ archives?"

He nodded. "I had heard about it but I wasn't sure it really existed so I asked Eru."

"You asked Eru," she parroted in disbelief. "And he accepted… just like that?"

"Not _just_ like that. I had to convince him a little," the master replied with a light smirk. "He granted us access but only once."

Her eyes narrowed. "You know, that ability of yours to get in trouble borders on pure talent! This place is like the holy of holies! Nobody beside the chieftains even knows where it is! All the organizations, all the members, the contacts, the snitches, all the operations past and future… Everything is kept there! Eru cannot take upon him to allow a couple of Jedi in!"

"Look, Sohal, it's rather simple. If you're scared to go, I'll do it alone," he said a bit impatiently, ignoring her offended look. "With the RAID out there, we can't afford to dither questioning the Mob's motives."

Nila shook her head lightly -- trusting Eru at that point had become a very perilous move.

The Master was already standing at the door, his cloak folded over his arm. "Are you coming?"


	11. Leaves in the Sibyl's Cave

Kenobi watched through the transparent wall of the elevator as they descended toward the solid ground into the greenish fog of Coruscant's depths. One could hardly believe this desolated scenery had anything to do with the galactic capital. All around lay what looked like the remains of a burnt down city. A thick layer of dust and some kind of moss invading the abandoned buildings had uniformly smothered traces of a previous life. People seldom ventured deep enough in the Lower City to see those ruined streets littered with air speeders carcasses, fallen there haphazardly over the years.

The elevator shuddered to a stop and Obi-Wan Kenobi took a step out. The dirt absorbed any sound and there was no smell of earth, no apparent activity. The usual urban din echoed very distantly above them.

There was the meeting point. He cast another wary look around him. Not a soul. It was so quiet he thought for a second he had got the direction wrong. He did not like this at all. From the corner of his eyes, he made sure Nila was safely standing behind him.

"They did not come," he muttered, urging the young woman back into the lift. "Let's not lager, we know not of what may be lurking here."

"Wait. It's the right place," Nila said, brushing past him. She took a few steps and seemed to stare at something on the other side of the street. He followed and discovered a niche in a half crumbled wall where an ancient, strange statue was displayed.

"Nuala," she murmured. "A divinity of the ancient religion. The Mob often uses her to scare away intruders."

"Oh. Superstition then?"

Nila threw a sidelong look at the effigy. "She's evil."

Kenobi felt a wave of discomfort coming from her and her palm was suddenly on his arm,covering the crescent shaped scar. An odd gesture. As if to warn him or maybe to seek reassurance…

He glanced down and saw she was embarrassed. He moved to pat her hand reassuringly but she had already taken it away. He cleared his throat, a bit self-conscious himself and started to draw nearer to the statue.

"Stay away from her!" shouted Nila so unexpectedly that the Jedi's stride faltered.

In front of him, two eyes made of black stone, which had lost none of their sharpness along the centuries, stared down at him fixedly. The only trace of colour among the emaciated features was the thin line of crude red painting the goddess' lips. The artisan's chisel had cut a faint smile into the wood that could have been labelled as sardonic or mysterious. The fine bridge of the nose parted hollow cheeks shadowed by high cheekbones…

"Obi-Wan!"

Nila was now right behind him. A surge of uneasiness coursed through him as he met again the statue's narrow slits of dark eyes. Their long shape stretched far toward the temples beneath the implacable arch of the eyebrows. It seemed to him that the air had grown slower and heavier for no particular reason…

His blood suddenly froze in his veins – a red tinge had just flickered in the goddess' stony gaze.

Laser sights!

He threw an arm around Nila's waist and plunged down behind a heap of junk a scant second before a shot smashed the statue to pieces. They landed roughly on the ground and he rolled immediately on the top, shielding her as the firing started to disintegrate the trash around them. A tad disoriented, Nila regained enough of her bearing to shove him off when she saw his face right above hers. She went very still as a ginger lock of his hair grazed her cheek.

"Are you hit?" he whispered.

Hey… his eyes were green…

Nila shook her head numbly, feeling like kicking herself. In a heart beat, he was up and whirling around accompanied by the hiss of his blade just in time to deflect the first blaster bolts piercing through the junk sheltering them. She scrambled up right after him and found herself hard-pressed to parry the blaster crossfire. The snipers were ingeniously placed forcing the two Jedi to make wide, tiring movements with their blade.

She cast a brief surveying look behind her and winced. A high wall stood but a few meters away from them, preventing any retreat -- if they did not find a solution quickly, they would be left completely exposed to the shots with no chance to escape.

Kenobi was assessing the situation as well. The snipers were posted up in the ruins; there was no visibility and they were too far to be neutralized. He took a few steps back and noticed they were shooting at regular intervals as though obeying a strictly rehearsed choreography. When Kenobi's shoulder brushed the wall behind him, he understood. They were not trying to kill them -- they were merely cornering them.

At the same moment, Nila felt the hard surface of the wall in her back and briefly closed her eyes. They popped open when she felt her support suddenly give way and a fist wrap into the back of her tunic, pulling her in. There was the quick image of Kenobi tumbling backward and the burn of a bolt grazing her cheek before darkness closed around them.

Everything had happened so quickly that Nila wondered briefly if she had lost consciousness. Everything around her was drowned in an inky shadow which strongly smelled of dust and mould. Her senses alerted her of her partner's presence nearby and...

"To your right!" barked Kenobi's voice.

She narrowly dodged the hand she visualized in her mind, snatched the wrist connected to it and twisted it sharply until her assailant was lying flat on the floor. A faint noise somewhere in the darkness informed her that Kenobi had disposed of another opponent. She tried to muffle the broken cries coming from the prone form beneath her but heavy footfalls were already running their way. Both knights stood ready, light sabres in hand.

Lights irrupted and revealed a dozen men aiming their blasters at them.

"Bastards," Nila growled, recognizing Santillian's men. "We had an arrangement!"

"Damn straight we had!" spat one of them.

"We had your word we could come unharmed. You are a disgrace to the Family!"

"Nila." Kenobi shot her a disapproving glance.

Her words had several men blanch with anger and the one who had spoke first—probably the leader of this squad-- replied hotly.

"You brought Thranton's men! You work with the RAID!"

"Certainly not!" cried out Nila, scandalized. "What are you taking us for?!"

"That'll do, Knight Sohal. It was an ambush," he explained with his best poker face. "They tried to make us think we betrayed each other. You know their ways."

"We know her ways," said the leader, jerking his head towards Nila who conspicuously secured her hold on her sabre's hilt. The man smirked.

"You know, it did not save your master last time."

Nila immediately reacted to the provocation but Kenobi threw a restrictive hand in front of her.

All of the sudden, a feminine voice was heard behind the henchmen. A tall woman draped in a dark green robe parted the tight row of men. She bore a high, noble brow and her mostly white hair was pulled back in an intricate bun. Nila turned toward her partner as his hold on her shoulder loosened. He seemed to be frozen on the spot.

"Let them go," the woman said.

"I think I won't, my lady," replied the man with stiff respect.

"They were invited by an Arda," she hissed. "Now take your men outside. Ten of them may stay for intern security."

The man opened his mouth to shoot some venomous reply but apparently decided against it and set his jaw tightly.

"Don't you know who she is, my lady?" he asked sombrely, gesturing toward Nila. "She—"

"Oh, enough!" A man dressed in an elegant set of tunics walked into the room and addressed the henchman with a cold, bored voice. "Your attitude will simply not do. Tell me, what kind of image do you give to our guests? That we have no manners? Hum?" The henchman flinched but remained silent.

The newcomerraised an annoyed eyebrow. "This is the second time I warn you. There will not be a third," he said, beckoning two guards who came to seize their mate and lead him out.

The newcomer looked back at the Jedi, bowing his head slightly. "My apologies for this disagreeable incident. I'm Jovan Dysaneth and I represent the Santillian clan here."

Just as he spoke a horrible cry muffled by the wall burst in the hall. Kenobi darted a look in the direction of the scream while Nila cringed: the henchman had just been shot in the knees. No one reacted in the crowd of mobsters.

"We will escort you to the reading room," Dysaneth announced with a rather cheerful smile given the circumstances.

The older woman stepped forth. "Would you please give your weapons to those gentlemen and follow me?"

The Jedi exchanged a grim look but disengaged their blade and unbuckled their utility belt. As the group trailed out the room behind the lady and Dysaneth, Nila moved to walk by Kenobi's side.

"What's going on with the RAID?"

"They actually are the reason why we're here tonight," he admitted in a low voice. He lowered his eyes a bit when she brusquely looked up at him. "The RAID was first on the Scroll's trail: they bugged the Families frequencies and found out its plausible location. The Council only heard of it after the search was launched. They had to go to the Chancellor to be allowed to have someone on the case, the Senate wouldn't let them."

Nila Sohal's face had lost all expression at the news.

"You were right about Thranton. The attack outside just proved he is trying to kill two birds with one stone," Kenobi continued. "He triggers a progressive winding up of our relationship with Santillian while he exploits old grudges within the Family. This way he will always be able to find someone willing to negotiate a reversal of alliance…"

"That will get him to the Scroll without any difficulty," she said coolly.

"He also seems to know exactly where to find us. This is the second time he does this to us. It means the RAID has a source of information…"

"Don't even dare to look at me, Kenobi," Nila ground out.

"I wasn't!" he protested. "Listen Nila, don't be angry…"

"You're not working with me." With that, she fell silent and Kenobi lost the opportunity to answer as they were urged to walk down a narrow metallic stair.

The Jedi discovered a large, non-descript space encased in thick duracrete walls and supported by a series of heavy pillars. Endless rows of data, lined up in large holoshelves and spread over three different levels, were neatly divided in sections according to their subject. Working desks with complete holo units were settled in front of each division. The light was dim and created a strange, confined atmosphere despite the volume of the place. In each corner, two men were sitting, both armed and looking intently at them.

It really existed then… Nila let her eyes wander over what represented years and years of smuggling and common vice. Ironically enough, it was almost as vast and as documented as the Jedi Archives themselves. The room was as large as a hangar or… or a blockhouse?

She smirked. Clever. The Mob had chosen the military forts dating back to the time when Coruscant's inhabitants lived on solid ground to hide their precious data. There were hundreds of them all around the City. A simple move from a fort to another at regular interval insured the secrecy of the location.

The lady left them at the bottom of the stairs followed by Dysaneth after he had ordered the men to see the Jedi settled.

"This way," a henchman said curtly. He stopped in a transversal alley by one of the study tables and handed Kenobi an electronic card. "This will allow you to log on. We will get it back as soon as you are finished."

With that, he went to grab a chair and sat a few meters away with the other guards. Kenobi turned around to find Nila already seated and typing the log in code. He shook his head slightly and settled to his task.

After hours of fruitless browsing, Nila felt her concentration slip. The access card only granted a very limited access to the archived files.

Time drew out and she could feel that their observers were getting restless. Nila morosely blew a lock of hair out of her face and rose to stretch her back unceremoniously. She strolled a bit in the alleys and paused at a reading table as though to look for a document while actually contemplating a way to reach the restricted part of the library situated just across the hall. She raised her eyes and nearly jumped out of her skin. Standing but a meter away from her was the gaunt form of a small being was watching her with big circled eyes.

A boy.

No.

A Child.

He brushed her fingers as he thrust a data pad in her hand and Nila almost stepped back in instinctive repulsion. She could see the bluish pattern of his veins under his pallid skin -- he already looked so irremediably burnt out. Progressive loss of sleep and appetite -- the unmistakable effects of solicaine.

Nila looked down at the terse message issued by Abenok. A date and an hour. She hastily entered the address Kenobi had selected for the meeting and handed the pad back to the boy.

Their gaze locked for a moment before the kid scampered off behind the closest holoshelf.

She inhaled deeply to shake off this irrational fear that years of training could not erase just as a raucous curse echoed behind her. Heavy footsteps were darting away probably chasing after the small intruder.

A diversion! Nila raced toward the restricted area and was in a scant second before the guard's return.

It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the semi obscurity and make out new rows of records neatly stored. She randomly picked a row and ran a finger over the spines of the holobooks, scanning the titles. As Nila crouched down to check the bottom shelf, a holobook appeared under her nose.

"I think that's what you're looking for."

The young knight raised her eyes to discover the tall woman looking down at her. Nila could not see much in the shadow of the room. All she could feel was the strong presence, grave and poised yet slightly tainted by anguish.

"There is no need to look so alarmed. This is what you look for, trust me," she insisted gently.

Nila reached out to take the holo and inspected it. "It has no label. What is it?"

The woman looked a bit bemused. "You'll see it for yourself." She glanced toward the exit and whispered urgently. "You can't stay here. Dysaneth will come back any minute."

Nila did not budge. "Who are you?"

"I'm the keeper of this lore."

Nila's body went rigid. The contents of the file she had discovered during Kenobi's introduction to the Mob went through her mind. The woman in front of her was Farah Panasana.

"Go now!"

Nila blinked but gathered her documents hurriedly and was out of the room.

When Nila made her way back to the study table clutching three sets of holovids, Obi-Wan Kenobi could tell that something was wrong.

"So you found something? Where did you get it?" he asked, rising from his seat to help her with her burden. But Nila impatiently dismissed him and started to finger the opening of a holobooks, clicking her tongue in annoyance when it resisted her efforts.

"We are expected tomorrow night at 10. I gave the address you chose," she answered tersely, her mind still on what had happened a few minutes before.

Kenobi eyed the disk she finally managed to extract from the transparent wrapping. "What is it?"

Nila leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Well, if you leave me enough time to actually read it I might give an answer to that question."

The Jedi Master managed a tight smile and turned toward his own terminal without further comments. He had not been very fair to her, letting aside the implication of the RAID and disclosing the meeting point at the very last minute. Although he had his reasons to do so, low profile certainly was his best option for the moment.

Nila plopped down in the chair, feeling momentarily sorry but she did not really want to deal with her partner at that point. She discreetly slipped Kenobi's disk out of her pocket and selected the file labelled Farah Panasana. She plugged her data pad to the terminal and downloaded the two addresses recorded among the data and quickly shoved both items in the depths of her pocket. She then inserted the holobook given by the keeper and started to browse the selection of documents. What she found had her frowning.

"Have you wondered," she whispered. "How we came to fight against each other without realizing who we were that night in the Archives?"

Kenobi shot her a curious glance.

"I've been unable to come up with a logical explanation," she carried on. "But I think we were not alone in the Archives that night. Nor have we been ever since."

He kept his eyes on the screen in front of him. "What are you talking about?"

"The presence I first felt was not human. And it wasn't alien either." She hesitated for a second before saying: "In fact it wasn't even alive."

This time, Kenobi turned around and looked straight in her eyes. A slow wry smile crept on his lips.

"Come now, I'm serious," she said, a little piqued.

"It was me." He returned to his reading.

"How come I've heard two people running that night?"

"Well, I may have an explanation but I doubt you'll like it."

Nila shot him a sour look. "We're Force-sensitive. We do not mistake our peers for our enemies. It's just not possible. We both sensed something for a moment and that's why you shielded from me -- you felt threatened by something and --"

"Sohal," he interrupted quietly. "I know all this so get to the point please."

She turned her screen toward him. "The lady we met earlier is the keeper of this lore and she seemed to know exactly what I was looking for. Remember the fragmentary text you were reading at the Temple Archives when I found you that night? Well, this is the missing part. Fully translated in Basic. It's some sort of diary dating back from three millennia ago, right after the destruction of Ossus when the survivors moved to Coruscant," she explained. "Something happened to its owner, a man called Sidès Meill."

"Who was he?"

"The captain of Queen Khisré's personal guard, the direct descendant of Queen Asalwa," she answered, summing up the document. "The queen apparently sent him on a most secret mission he was not allowed to mention even in his private papers but he describes here some strange facts that occurred. Among those is this unexplainable sensation of cold closing around him like a hand and freezing him from inside."

Her partner's eyes narrow perplexedly. "Oh. This is…"

"Familiar?" she prompted.

He shrugged lightly. "The date of the last entry corresponds exactly to the time the Holocron was spotted last and the year when Coruscant became a Republic. The end of the First Age then. Maybe the Holocron was actually found after the Great Cataclysm and reinitialised equilibrium between Ashla and Bogan before disappearing again. Now that the Second Age is about to end, the Scroll must be found again."

He suddenly reached his hand toward the screen. His finger traced the guard's name. "Sidès Meill is the anagram of Delemissei."

"How do you know?" Nila asked, a bit surprised.

He shrugged, puzzled. "I just do. There wasn't only one Delemissei but several of them. One for each passing of an Age. History repeats itself endlessly. "

Nila raised a contemplative eyebrow. "You're right. Sidès bore his name and now you bear the queen's emblem in turn."

The Jedi master remained quiet.

She quickly scrolled down.

"So, this text proves that the Elements have been incarnated several times since the prophecy was made. But as long as the three of them are not in contact, the scroll cannot be found. The question would be now: how are they brought together? And here is the answer I think. Here 'The Three Horsemen'."

Kenobi obligingly started to read aloud. "They are the guardians of the prophecy, a particular manifestation of the Force. There is one for each of the Three Runes' embodiments."

"I think I saw_ it_ when I spied on Beryl and that man," Nila abruptly said. "It looked like a silvery shape standing by them, showing me something, but I couldn't make out what it was…

What occurred to him is precisely what I feel anytime I shield. And I know you sensed it too during that fight with Cir'b, your skin was ice cold afterwards."

He sat back in his chair. "So if I understand correctly, the prophecy has been at rest for an Age, waiting for three appointed persons to be born and find each other to be lead to the Scroll and prevent some intergalactic catastrophe…"

"I don't mean to rub it in but I do remember saying it was stupid from the beginning."

He closed his eyes. "We've been searching for weeks, traded with the Mob, risked our lives to learn we must find someone impersonating _a rune _which could be any other person in this galaxy and trust ghoulish Force forms to take us to a Holocron that's part legend part symbolic…"

A muffled sound made him look up to find his partner leaning over her desk, her face hidden in her hands and her shoulders shaking.

Nila was laughing.

Kenobi watched her disbelievingly, they were pinned between the RAID and the Mob and she was laughing. "You're –"

"Atypical," she choked out.

A smile softened the Master's impatient face. "That's a polite way to put it."

"On a positive note," she said, wiping her eyes. "If, as I do believe now, the prophecy is already unfolding, it means Hanoch is someone close to us..."

At that moment, one of the guards rose from his seat and walked up to them. "Your time is up," he announced. "It is not prudent to stay here any longer."

Not prudent? Nila and Kenobi exchanged a glance. Eru had let them in unbeknownst to the other Clans.

The two Jedi were led through a succession of rooms toward another exit. A heavy door which slowly hissed open and they felt the acrid air from outside brush their face. Silently, the men handed them their utility belts where their light sabres hung.

"We checked the area. Take the first lift on your left toward the surface."

They stepped back inside and closed the entrance in the Jedi's face.

"That's all?" Nila asked to the closed door.

"Sohal! We don't have all day," barked Kenobi from the lift.

The lift slowed down and stopped long before reaching the upper level of Coruscant. His light sabre in hand, Kenobi cautiously stepped out, inspected their surroundings, probing the Force and stepped outside the cabin.

"All clear," he announced.

"Where are we?"

"Near the Court of the Lost," he said, pointing to a dark edifice. "I have some business to attend."

Nila walked out on the large platform supporting the imposing arches of the infamous Court. The shadow between the pillars was so thick that it gave the impression it had no end.

Kenobi beckoned her to follow him toward the edge of the platform. They crouched down noiselessly and Nila pointed to a small group of men gathered on the top of a building below them. The tall broad frame of Lieutenant Thranton was easily discernable.

"That's insulting," she ranted. "He's not even trying to hide."

"Why should they? They're always a step ahead of us."

They stared for a moment at the group and she nodded pensively "Means we'll need a way out tomorrow night. Just in case…"

"Precisely," Kenobi murmured before shaking his head and drawing away from the sill.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw he was busy typing a message on his data pad. Her gaze returned blandly to Thranton's silhouette. She felt cold and drew her cloak more tightly around her. Her body seemed to be progressively gained by numbness and she did not completely realize that her right hand had slid under her robes toward her holster. Then everything became clear. Nila pulled out her blaster.

"Nila?"

She closed one eye and aimed for the head of the tall figure parading among his men. A hand darted in her sights and knocked down the barrel.

"What the blast are you doing?"

She shook the hindrance off and took aim again just when Thranton turned around and without hesitation, looked right up at her. Nila's finger found the trigger and her whole body tightened under an unfamiliar pressure. It was only a heartbeat away…

Suddenly, strong hands griped hers over the blaster to divert the shot. A hoarse cry escaped her lips when she saw the bolt hit a pile of containers which fell on the squad. Throwing an arm across her chest, Kenobi dragged her out of sight. "Stop it. Drop your weapon."

The small wisps of hair dangling near her ear fluttered with his breath.

"Drop it." His grip on her right wrist tightened uncomfortably until pain vibrated in her articulations. His skin was as cold as hers and his hands were trembling too… Her body suddenly let go and the iciness disappeared. She vaguely sensed her legs giving way under her and the blaster falling into his hand.

Nila opened wide her eyes and drew a deep intake of air. Her cheek was pressed against the rough linen of a Jedi uniform and a solid grip around her waist was holding her up.

"Are you all right?" inquired her partner's voice from above her head.

"I missed, didn't I?" she mumbled.

"Missed?"

"The Horseman," she murmured, noting his skin was chilled.

A bit disconcerted, Kenobi adjusted his hold on her, feeling her weight in his arms, listening to her breath becoming progressively even. "I know, I felt it too."

"It wanted me to eliminate the threat, but you stopped me."

He considered her for a brief moment and detached her from him gently. "Nila," he said. "You stood there looking at Thranton for a while. You remember that, don't you? Then you dropped like a stone."

Puzzled, Nila turned her head toward Thranton's men to find them sitting exactly the way they had a few minutes before and her blaster secured in its holster. Her hands went to her temples to rub them but she stopped mid gesture realizing it had happed before. It was the second time those strange dreams or whatever it was, affected her.

"Do you dream, Obi-Wan?" she started.

Kenobi listened to her attentively without making any comment. "There is this dream I have at night," he eventually said. "I know it's always the same but I never remember more than a tight crowd around me saying things I cannot understand." He fell silent, trying to make sense of the situation. Truth to be told, he had now the disturbing feeling that the Horsemen had never quite left them since the night they had met, observing them and now manipulating their thoughts. Would they try to influence their actions as well?

Nila sat on the sill and glumly watched him put some distance between them. "Whatever it is, you must not let it control you, Nila. Killing a Republican officer can bring you no good."

The young woman settled for a non-committal shrug wondering how the Force she was supposed to do that. She could hardly tell reality from visions.

"Come now," he urged, reaching out a hand to help her up. "They won't be long to find us."

"Where are you going now?" She called after him as they darted toward the dark arches.

"Finding a way out for tomorrow night," he replied.

"Huh?"

"Just keep moving."

The shadows seemed to swallow them as soon as they stepped into the building. Nila observed their surroundings with uncertainty. The dark high pillars all around them created a maze of alleys leading nowhere. It was as though she was walking through one of those uncomfortable dreams where the line with nightmare could be crossed at any moment. Her eyes flickered over the arches and noticed that they were covered with whitish markings. Cabbalistic signs. Intrigued, she drew closer…

A wide crescent-like shape was scarring the centre of the closest pillar.

"Kenobi!" she called with a seemingly calm voice. "Do we really want to be here?"

"Yes, because no one else would."

"Can't blame them…"she muttered.

The building that the people of Coruscant called the 'Court of the Lost' was a dire reminder of a dark part of the planet's history everyone would rather forget. In the early stages of the Republic, the dignitaries of the Ancient Religion had quickly contested the new regime and had urged their congregations to follow their example. A huge movement of rebellion had spread mayhem in the city-planet for over a year. The laws were harsh at that time, almost as harsh as men were… A bloody episode had ensued -- the rebels had been massacred and their bodies buried in the pillars standing around the Jedi. A forest of troubled shadows… For centuries, seers had delivered their oracles there and all kinds of strange assemblies had occurred in the secrecy of the arches. Until eerie events had happened. Now a tacit, superstitious ban lay on the building.

"Admit it," Nila said. "We're lost,"

"We aren't. I know exactly where we are."

"Right."

Before any of them could react, a shadow sprung to life and seized Kenobi. In a second, Nila had her sabre ready in her hand and sprung forth. The huge four-armed creature gripping her partner froze when her blade found its way inches from its thick neck.

It was a Besalisk. Nila frowned.

A _familiar_ Besalisk…


	12. Meeting Farah Panasana

* * *

Hello there! I know, I've been hideous about updating this story but as I basically moved from France to Spain where I didn't have the internet for half a year and then back home, it took me ages to be able to post this chapter. I can tell to those who are still interested in this story that there's a lot more to come. There, I give you this part unbeta-ed so forgive the spelling and grammatical mistakes.

Thanks for your patience again and don't hesitate to tell me what you think!

* * *

Nila gaped at the tall and burly alien decked out in a greasy t-shirt still squeezing an oddly passive Kenobi.

"Dexter Jettster?"

"I'll be damned! Sohal!" the Dexter creature thundered jovially, altogether oblivious of the sabre and the fact his enthusiasm met no echo.

"Step back from my partner and keep your hands where I can see them," Nila ordered. "The four of them, you creep. You won't fool me twice with that trick you pulled last time."

Kenobi peeled himself from Dexter's embrace as the Besalisk let out a whistle.

"Still has an attitude, eh?"

"A rather lenient understatement, Dex," Kenobi observed with deceptive sobriety.

"Well, she_ does_ have a light sabre at my throat. Speaking of it, could you remove her from my carotid?"

Nila dropped her arm, dumbfounded.

"Sorry about the lateness and all. Theeatery was overcrowded when I got your message," Dexter went on.

Kenobi graciously dismissed the apology.

"I caught sight of young Anakin the other day, growing like a weed, isn't he?" The alien said, starting a conversation as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Her weapon hanging uselessly at her side, Nila watched her usually taciturn partner engage a genial small talk with the disagreeable impression she had missed something. Dexter Jettster had been a regular of the Unit records. He had had a well-chosen place in Nasrin's organization while the old Arda was still alive. No doubt, Kenobi was aware of that since the Besalisk had a solid reputation of a smuggler in the Outer Rim…

"I'm glad to see that business is going well," said the Jedi Master, his abnormally cheery tone making Nila grit her teeth.

"Can't complain, really, though prices have shot up with that new tax. It will kill the business, I'm telling y"

"Hey! I'm here!" Nila exclaimed, exasperated.

"Oh." Kenobi seemed to remember her presence and gestured toward the alien. "Dex is an old friend. I didn't know you two were already… acquainted."

"I bet he didn't gloat about it," she ground before turning toward the Besalisk with a stern look. "Now you're here Jettster, will you at least make yourself useful and get us out of here?"

Dex's face broke into a sunny grin.

* * *

Nila took deep breath as Dex nonchalantly zoomed past yet another air taxi, narrowly avoiding yet another fatal collision. They had just entered the airspace of the Collective Commerce District, dubbed CoCo Town by its inhabitants. Releasing the death grip she had on the front seat, she leaned forward and yelled to cover the traffic din.

"Would you care to tell me what we're doing in this neighbourhood?"

"There's something I want you to see," replied Kenobi.

A few minutes later, he pointed a small building standing by the main highway of the district. "Here we are. Dex's Diner."

As they landed in front of the common eatery, the alien and the Jedi master promptly leaped out of the craft, making their way to the entrance. Nila, on the other hand, did not budge.

"What is all_ this_ exactly?" she called out, pointing at the eatery and Dex even though she had a good idea of where things were heading.

Dex darted a faintly surprised look to Kenobi.

"Why don't we discuss this over a drink?" he offered, glancing at a stoned faced Nila. "And preferably something strong…"

"We needed a place for the meeting and a back up for tomorrow night," Kenobi answered.

Nila scoffed making the master's features tighten. The Jedi never questioned a fellow's decisions or exposed potential disagreement in public.

"Dex's canteen was our best option," he said coolly. "This part of the district is crowded at night. We will be able to vanish without difficulty if things go wrong."

Nila was clearly sceptical. "Heavy traffic makes the snipers impossible to spot. You're giving them an asset they won't fail to exploit"

"We've already thought over this possibility."

This reply stung her unpleasantly. "'_We_'? I don't remember having ever been consulted about this issue."

Kenobi squared his shoulders, visibly growing tired of the exchange.

"First you omit the implication of the RAID and now I discover that you deliberately neglected to discuss strategic details with me." Nila stated before a less than pleasant smirk appeared on her face. "Come on, Kenobi, let's have it then."

Dex cleared his throat, sensing the atmosphere turning sour. "Er, I—" He started but Kenobi's even voice covered his.

"Have what, Nila?"

"The little speech where you finally choke out that I'm playing the Order false. Go on, speak frankly for once."

The master's eyes hardened singularly. "Where exactly were you last week when I needed you to plan this encounter? What can I say about my partner's habit to vanish without explanations?"

Something akin to surprise flickered in Nila's eyes before she retorted. "I had other business to attend to and you never told me you were preparing the meeting!"

"Oh? I'm rather curious to hear about this business," he said, never raising his voice as he goaded her on.

But as suddenly as she had picked up the fight, Nila dropped the matter, sighing tiredly. "This is just not working, is it?" she murmured to herself. "Let's go inside and see what you have planned."

That abrupt reversal of situation had Kenobi drop his arms in consternation and annoyance. Nila was seriously starting to mess with his head with her unpredictable change of moods and mind. She just spread confusion and uncertainty in his methodical ways. He hated that but chose to remain quiet in front of Dex, moving again toward the entrance.

Nila stopped on the threshold as she quickly thought the situation over. CoCo Town was Abenok's territory. No matter how well they would plan things ahead, he would always be able outsmart them.

What they needed was information coming directly from the Clan, she reckoned. For that, they had to find another informant not as directly implicated as Eru… Perhaps Dex was not such an awkward choice after all: his insight could prove useful and his name was known in the Mob.

However, Nila needed someone still active in the Circle. She watched her partner while Dex left them to fetch the drinks. Poor Kenobi, he was not going to like this. As she looked in his eyes, a name came to her almost at once.

"What now?" Kenobi inquired stiffly.

"You were right to contact Jettster," she conceded by way of apology. "But he has been retired for too long now to enlighten us on Abnok's motives. I think I know someone who can help us."

He cast her a wary look. "What are you up to this time?"

Nila handed him her data pad where was recorded the addresses where she could find Farah Panasana.

"The archives' keeper?" he whispered, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise.

Nila nodded and deliberately laid a hand on his scarred arm. "I'll go alone." He moved to protest but she held his gaze, pressing his arm gently. "I won't fail you."

The master remained silent, suddenly unable to oppose her. Her fingers strayed on him a moment longer and then she went out before he could comment.

Kenobi frowned, nonplussed as he watched her walk away outside the window.

"Stay put, Obi-Wan," Dex said, coming up behind him with the steaming cups. "She has no information the Families don't have already."

The Jedi shot him a sharp look and a subtle feeling of insecurity made its way in his mind.

The Besalisk shook his head sagely and echoed his friend's thoughts. "That's how the Underworld manipulates you, Obi-Wan. It erases all landmark, who to trust and who to keep an eye on. Stay rational, man, whatever you see," he advised as he motioned him toward a secluded booth.

"What I see at the moment is that I find myself partnerless again," Obi-Wan said with a half ironic, half fatalistic shrug. "At least this time she did it in my face and went into the trouble of finding an excuse."

"You know," Dex said as they sat together. "I'm not an expert of human relations. But you might want to do something about that partner of yours."

Kenobi gave him a long-suffering glance. "Whether we get along or not isn't exactly the problem here."

"But it bugs you."

"Well, sometimes I am under the impression there is some progress. But every time I make a move to get closer she shuts me off instantly."

Dex grinned. "Not used to unresponsive females, huh?"

But Obi-Wan Kenobi was not in the mood that day. "You don't understand. And she obviously doesn't either!" he growled, venting his frustration. "How can I keep her safe when I don't even know where she is? Or what she does for the matter…"

He dropped his gaze to the table, suddenly unwilling to continue the discussion.

"I do understand, Obi-Wan but she can fend for herself, no?" the Besalisk asked. "Nila Sohal isn't a bad person I think. Wouldn't betray the Order to be sure, but she's never seemed to know very well what her side was even in the Unit's days. The Mob got her good, you see."

Dex stroked his large chin pensively. "I think today's pretty different, though."

Obi-Wan looked up.

"The Jedi Council officially dismissed the Unit since the creation of the RAID relieved them of their duty in the Underworld," the Besalisk went on. "It's not entirely true. The real reason was that Sohal raided her Family's HQ with some of her fellows to get Santillian and Taev right after they decimated the Unit. They risked the Council's anger but they all followed her without a question. Damn hellcat she was… turned out a bloody mess but dreadfully efficient. They did not tell you that at the Temple, eh?"

Kenobi shook his head, a bit unsettled. This story fitted so little the circumspect woman he knew. "I can't say I've had a lot of information from the Council about Nila," he confessed. "I even have the impression that they have been covering up her absences during the past weeks."

He regretted his words. Voicing that kind of opinion in front of a civilian, friend or not, was not the wisest thing to do.

"You bet." Dex chuckled. "They cushioned the whole incident and locked Sohal up in the Temple for fear of reprisal because believe me, that partner of yours got some reputation in the circle after this. Fortunately, there was no dead among the Ardas. I think that's the only thing that saved her from being kicked out of the Order."

"Is that her real motive then? She accepted the mission to finish what was started that night," Kenobi wondered aloud.

"Possibly. Though it might already be done, at least partly. I don't think anyone saw Taev in person after this. And that was four years ago."

"You told me there had been no casualties among the Ardas."

The burly alien shrugged. "Just quoting the facts."

A pregnant silence passed between the two friends.

"I don't like this, Dex."

Dex's face immediately lost some of its gravity. Despite their sincere friendship, he was aware that he only had a limited access to the Jedi's mind and inner feelings but the alien was a fine judge of character. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a clever man, yes, clever and capable he always nailed the problem right away and was be quick to provide ingenious solutions. Today though, he definitively lacked the proper distance and above all, the right angle.

"See," Dexter said with a smile. "I'm pretty sure her past is not the only thing that sets you off kilter."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. Use some of your legendary Jedi insight."

The master sighed wearily and sloped back against the booth.

"Dex…We abide by the Code…" he gestured to signify his friend knew the rest.

"I never suggested it had to do with fraternization, Obi-Wan…"

"I…," he shook his head. "I don't even know why I keep discussing with you."

"Because it's been on your mind," Dex said with his streetwise, implacable logic.

"Absurd. I don't even think of Nila as a woman," Kenobi muttered.

"Ah. Then your eyes have a mind of their own, mate," the alien answered gently.

* * *

During this time, down in the Eastern Sector of the Lower City, the air taxi Nila had hailed outside Dex's eatery pulled in front the location she had indicated. She checked the address and looked up to discover the discreet window of a reading lounge café. She mechanically paid the driver and walked up to the door.

A pleasant atmosphere where the rich aroma of fresh jawa juice and tobacco wafted from behind a dark wooden bar welcomed her. Customers moved about quietly, reaching for a holobook on one of the low shelves separating the cream coloured sofas where they could recline to sip their drinks and watch their selections.

Nila peered around her with keen eyes and spotted a figure sitting in a corner, at the far end of the room that made her heartbeat quicken.

"May I sit with you for a moment, milady?"

The white haired woman raised her head and considered the Jedi wrapped in a dark cloak standing in front of her. "You finally came."

So the archive keeper had expected her visit. Sitting in an armchair, Nila glanced experimentally at the grave face in front her and decided to go straight to the point. "Tomorrow I will meet Abenok Santillian as you might already know. Force knows what the Clan is up to, so…" she paused with a hollow smile, crossing and uncrossing her fingers. "So I came for two things. First because I need your help about the Scroll and secondly… Because want to know tonight."

The Lore keeper tilted her head but made no sound.

"Years ago, I made researches to find the identity of my parents. Only one name came up." Nila finally dared to look up, a bit uncertain, vulnerable. "Yours?"

Again, the older woman remained silent but a strange emotion started to show in her eyes.

Nila cleared her voice. "I discovered a file with this name and this location in Santillian's headquarters. You are Farah Panasana, aren't you?"

Two slender hands dusted with pale freckles caught hers. "This place is watched, Nila."

The young woman stared at their joined hands. Both trembled slightly.

"You were waiting for me in the Families' archives?"

"Of course." Farah Panasana's moved smile gentled a bit her lofty features.

"Tell me our story please."

"Where to begin, child?" Farah said, looking a bit overwhelmed. "Kiel Taev, my Arda, had always been fascinated by the Myth. Where most people saw a symbolical truth, he saw the genuine power of two forces fighting for supremacy. A power that could be used. He hired me over thirty years ago unbeknownst to my family and my husband to make all the necessary research to find the Three. I came to realize that the Prophecy was dangerously potent and naught but the Jedi should deal with its mysteries. Therefore, I started to hide clues from Taev and do anything I could to slow the research."

She paused as a Mon Calamari client walked by, politely bowing his head to them.

"By the time I found out I was pregnant, he had managed to discover that the last incarnations of Delemissei and Hanoch were Force sensitive and he started to check everyone for midichlorians or birth marks. Your father died and I started to feel unexplainably unsafe. That feeling grew into a certitude when you were born with a high midichlorian count and Queen Asalwa's mark on you chest." Her long fingers brushed her own collarbone and Nila's hand instinctively mirrored the action.

"The moon crescent?" Nila asked

"It's not a moon… it's a runic symbol: Perthro, the lot cup. The Queen became the first incarnation of this rune at the end of the First Age."

"If you knew about the midichlorians why didn't you give me over to the Temple then?" Nila asked.

"Too conspicuous. We were all being watched. I had hoped you would find your way back to the Jedi but"

Both women fell silent as they studied each other avidly.

"I would have never imagined you would look like this,' Nila said as the first genuinely happy smile in a long time crossed her face. "Yet you seem familiar somehow. Your eyes…"

The archives keeper inhaled sharply before she could catch herself. "Did you…" She stopped abruptly and shook her head as though to clear her thoughts "Of course not." She smiled benignly at Nila's slightly confused expression.

"I should have sent you away," Farah suddenly said. "Somewhere you would have been entirely safe from them and from that Prophecy. Now you pay the price of that weakness."

"Please, no," Nila cut gently. "I'm just content to be here now."

Farah shook her head. "You are not safe Nila, Jedi or not. Queen Asalwa did not die of old age."

"I know. But I'm not alone."

"Delemissei? The Protector found you?"

Nila nodded with a vaguely amused smile as she recalled how _the_ _protector_ had flung her into a shelf when _she _had found him. "You saw him at the Families' archives."

"Does the Order know of my association with Taev and the Holocron, Nila?"

Nila shook her head. "I'm quite certain you realize why I cannot tell them."

Farah Panasana's eyes scanned the bar and she quickly leaned in to whisper.

"Taev is dead then?"

Nila shrugged lightly.

"So he is…" Farah whispered wide-eyed. "But it happened four years ago. How could the Republic manage to hide that from both the Mob and the Jedi?"

"Oh, the Jedi Council knows he died …and how," answered Nila, risking a glance up to Farah's concerned face. "The Senate did not lose time made the most of it. Supposedly to keep an upper hand on the traffic from the inside…"

A meaningful silence hung between them.

"This is insane!" Farah breathed. "Who did they appoint to replace Taev while everybody thinks he's alive?"

Nila leaned back against the sofa, looking deep in thought. "That's the great question but not my business right now."

"Don't be so sure. You are aware that if the Families find out, it will trigger a real war this time."

"War has already been brewing for years in the Underworld and I intend to get back the Scroll before that. Speaking of this, do you know what Abenok Santillian has in mind?"


End file.
